Blue Eyes and Brown
by QueenOfTheDreamers87
Summary: 1972. When Bellatrix catches Rodolphus cheating, she's not hurt - she's angry. The wicked master she fears and adores, Lord Voldemort, proposes a plan to exact revenge on Rodolphus... and Bellatrix couldn't be more pleased with the logistics. COMPLETE.
1. Good Fun

_July, 1972_

"Dolph?" Bellatrix opened the door of the London townhouse she shared with her husband. She shut the door behind her and frowned. He'd known she was going over to her parents' house to have tea with her mother and Narcissa. He knew she loathed tea. He knew she loathed her mother. Shouldn't he be smirking in the parlour, not one bit surprised that her visit had been cut short by acrimonious conversations and an abject lack of comfort? Bellatrix huffed. She climbed the townhouse stairs, thinking that he must be reading in the sunroom behind their bedroom.

She was halfway up the stairs when she heard the moaning.

Bellatrix froze, her fingers tightening on the bannister. She pulled out her wand, her soldier's instinct kicking in as she climbed the stairs. She padded carefully, silently, moving like a cat. The moans and creaking grew louder, and finally, when Bellatrix reached the top of the stairs, she realised just what was going on.

He had a girl. Worse, he had a girl in _their_ bedroom. Bellatrix's stomach churned with horrified nausea. She shut her eyes on the landing at the top of the stairs, wondering why the damned House-Elf hadn't had the wherewithal to keep her from coming up here. Bellatrix stepped closer to the bedroom where she and Rodolphus had reluctantly shared a bed for two years, and she let out a shaking breath.

"Dolph," she choked out, and he finally heard her. The pretty blonde witch who was riding him yelped and scrambled off, landing beside the bed with an ungraceful _thud_. She rushed to fetch her clothes, leaving poor naked Rodolphus all alone on the bed. He sat up slowly, covering the cock that was smeared with the girl's fluids, and he dragged his fingers through his mussed chestnut brown hair. His boyish face looked younger than ever as he whispered,

"Bella."

"Holly Thorpe, isn't it?" Bellatrix sniffed a little. "Get out of my house. Now."

"I'm so sorry, Madam Lestrange," mumbled Holly, yanking on her skirt and shoving her shoes onto her feet. She spared a glance back to Rodolphus and then Disapparated with a resounding _crack!_ Bellatrix eyed the place where she'd been, and she barked at Rodolphus,

"Get yourself in a shower. You are absolutely filthy."

He wordlessly rose, walking past Bellatrix and going into the bathroom. A moment later, she heard the shower running, and her eyes burned as she aimed her wand at the bed. For half a second, she considered burning it, but she didn't want to incinerate the entire house, so instead she Vanished the blankets and sheets upon which Rodolphus had taken his little whore. She walked into the bathroom and called over the sound of the running water,

"You'll need to Conjure or purchase new blankets for the bed in the master bedroom; the old ones are gone. I shall be sleeping in the guest room."

Rodolphus said nothing in response to that. After a very long while, she saw his silhouette lean against the wall behind the curtain, and he finally murmured,

"If you and I had been in love, Bellatrix, I could understand your hurt, but -"

"I am not hurt," Bellatrix snapped. "I am angry. There is a difference. Scrub nice and hard, Dolph. You're disgusting."

* * *

Bellatrix and Rodolphus walked three paces apart as they climbed the foyer steps in Malfoy Manor. They kept their distance as they walked down the long corridor that led to the meeting room. Halfway down the corridor, Bellatrix paused. She wrenched suddenly at the white gold wedding band on her left hand, and she tossed it onto the carpet runner.

"Wouldn't want anyone getting any silly ideas," she mumbled. Rodolphus scoffed loudly, bending to pick up the ring.

"Don't be stupid," he said rather loudly. "We're still married. You can't divorce me; we're a betrothed, arranged marriage bound by ancient rites. Taking off your ring does absolutely nothing."

"It makes me feel better," Bellatrix snarled. Rodolphus shrugged and tucked her wedding ring into his robe pocket. The two of them walked down the corridor and into the meeting room, which was already mostly full of Death Eaters. Lord Voldemort sat at the head of the table, and Bellatrix felt her heart speed up at the sight of him.

She adored him. She was like a child in awe of the stars and moon when she was around him. She was brave in battle for him, and vicious with Cruciatus and Killing Curses, but she was really just a silly little girl for him. He knew it, too. He knew she simpered and sighed over him like a stupid little lunatic, but still he took her on missions and assigned her the task of torturing prisoners. Today, Bellatrix got to sit right beside him, just to his right, for that chair was available. She nearly squealed with delight as she sank into the chair and flashed a little smile his way.

Voldemort flicked his eyes coldly around the room, seeming to take in all of those who had gathered. He did not look at Bellatrix, not even once, and her chest ached as she silently begged him for some semblance of attention. He eventually called the meeting to order and began talking with Abraxas Malfoy and Yaxley and Avery about their mission in Wales the previous week. Then he began to talk with Rookwood about Ministry happenings.

"Tell me about departmental infiltration," Voldemort said. Rookwood began to drone on about how they had spies for Voldemort in nearly every department now. Voldemort nodded, looking bored. His eyes turned to Bellatrix as Rookwood talked, and she felt her eyes go wide. He looked her up and down, and then his brows knitted together as his gaze settled on her left hand. Voldemort held up a finger, still staring at Bellatrix's hand, and he said,

'Thank you, Rookwood; I quite get the picture. Mulciber, Nott, Selwyn. Try and get me more information on Dumbledore's friends and their whereabouts."

"Yes, Master." Mulciber bowed his head. Voldemort finally turned away from Bellatrix, his eyes settling on Rodolphus. He stared for a long moment, and Rodolphus squirmed. Everyone in the room knew what was happening. Everyone knew that Lord Voldemort was a Legilimens. He was inside Rodolphus' head. Bellatrix gasped a little. Voldemort had seen her without her ring, and now he was searching Rodolphus' mind. Suddenly she felt abject humiliation, that her master would see her mundane and embarrassing private business like this.

Rodolphus slumped in his chair after a while, and Voldemort cleared his throat. He nodded and said,

"Dismissed."

Everyone got up, silent and frightened, and made their way out of the room. Bellatrix rose, but Voldemort snapped at her,

"Not you, Madam Lestrange. Stay."

"Yes, Master." Bellatrix stood beside his chair and waited. Rodolphus looked over his shoulder at her as he left the room, but she could not read his face. When at last the doors shut, Voldemort aimed his wand at them, and they buzzed with a nonverbal _Colloportus _spell. Bellatrix wondered suddenly if she had done something to anger her master. Was he going to punish her? Was that why he'd locked the doors?

"Holly Thorpe." He put his wand on the table before him and rolled it back and forth a little. He did not look at Bellatrix. She sighed.

"A Half-Blood Ravenclaw from our year at Hogwarts, My Lord. I think she works in Magical Games and Sports or something now."

"You went to have tea with your mother and sister, and your husband spent that time with a Half-Blood Ravenclaw named Holly." Voldemort was a bit cruel in the way he spat out the words, and Bellatrix pinched her lips. She sniffed.

"Ours was strictly an arranged marriage, Master. I assure you there is no love lost between Rodolphus and myself."

"He's got your wedding ring in his pocket," Voldemort noted. "You do not wish to wear it."

"I threw a tantrum," Bellatrix said, but Voldemort shrugged. He raised his eyes to her and stopped playing with his wand.

"I do not blame you one bit for your anger," he said. "The question now is… what do you do with that anger?"

"What do I do with it, My Lord?" Bellatrix gulped. "There's nothing to be done. I can't divorce him. I can't go hexing him; he's your servant the same as I am. I can't… I have no leverage."

"No leverage," Voldemort repeated, raising his eyebrows. "You think you have no means of exacting revenge upon that boy?"

"Well, I don't suppose you'll be handing him over to me for a good solid Cruciatus any time soon, Master," Bellatrix joked. Voldemort shook his head and whispered,

"Not that sort of revenge, you silly girl."

Bellatrix stared at him. What exactly did he mean? What sort of revenge was he talking about? Suddenly Lord Voldemort had taken his wand in his hand and was rising slowly from his chair, towering over Bellatrix. She was quite short, and he was very, very tall. He had his hair clipped short, and it was dark brown with bits of grey. He had a strong, straight nose, and sharp cheekbones, but his face was criss-crossed with pale scars. His eyes were dark, so unlike Rodolphus' pale blue ones.

"Bellatrix," said Voldemort, and her knees went weak all of a sudden. Hearing her name from him was almost orgasmic. Those three syllables - _Bellatrix_ \- were honey on his lips, and she shut her eyes for a moment after he spoke them. When she opened her eyes, he nodded down at her and observed, "You have wanted me ever since I put the Dark Mark upon you. No. Before that, even. You have wanted me, Bellatrix, since you were a fifteen-year-old flit and I was the aspirational Tom Riddle. But things are different now. You are my prized, vicious soldier, and I am your master. I am Lord Voldemort, and you are Bellatrix Lestrange, with a husband. Still, you want me."

"I'm sorry," Bellatrix whispered, feeling desperate. She stared up at him, at his face and his hair and the high collar of his robes, and she said it again. "I'm sorry."

"No." He shook his head firmly and told her, "I tire of pretending about it. I grow weary of ignoring it. And you have revenge to exact, Bellatrix."

"Revenge." She still couldn't quite comprehend what he was suggesting. He huffed a breath and reached for her hair, tucking it behind her ear. Bellatrix froze at his touch, at the way _he _had actually touched _her. _She mewled helplessly when he pulled his hand away, and he told her,

"I don't suppose that was Rodolphus' first time with Holly, do you?"

Bellatrix shook her head. The thought had certainly crossed her mind that Rodolphus had probably been having an affair for some time. Voldemort told Bellatrix,

"You know what you want. I know what you want. And you have revenge to exact. So, Bellatrix, are you up for a little revenge?"

She tried to speak, to answer him properly and respectfully. But all she could do was nod her head, mute and shaking as his hand went to the small of her back. She gasped as he bent down, descending toward her, and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was brief; it only lasted a moment and it was relatively chaste. But Bellatrix's world was spinning as she realised just what had happened. Voldemort pulled back, smirking down at her. He tipped his head and nodded.

"Oh, yes," he said. "I think this will be good fun."

**Author's Note: Mwah hahaha. Another Bellamort story! And in this one, we've got a Bellatrix/Voldemort dynamic where she's completely subservient to him and she's utterly enamored with him **_**and**_ **there's revenge involved. So, as Voldemort says, this should be fun.**

**Please, please, please do review if you get a quick moment. Thanks so very much.**


	2. Madness

Lord Voldemort stood in his office and stared out the window at the rain that was cascading down from the heavens. The sun was setting, so the cloudy sky was dimming, and it was getting chilly inside Malfoy Manor. Voldemort aimed his wand at the sturdy marble fireplace along his office wall, Conjured flames to crackle on the logs inside, and took a steadying breath.

He had kissed her. Had he been a fool to do it? Bellatrix Lestrange had pined after him with the enthusiasm of a puppy ever since she'd been a teenaged Slytherin home on holidays. She had longed to serve him, but more than that, she had longed for him to grant her a smidge of attention. One glance from him made her knees weak, he knew. One pronouncement of her name set her heart to racing. He knew that, and he knew that she would always do anything he commanded of her. She belonged to him, all the way to the blood in her veins. She was _his_. She was not her cheating husband's. No. Bellatrix belonged to Lord Voldemort.

So it had only felt natural, in the wake of the revelation that Rodolphus had run off on her, for Voldemort to put his hands on Bellatrix and press his lips to hers. Somehow, it had felt quite natural indeed, as though it were the culmination of some long, inevitable process. She had tasted and smelled like rain. Now Voldemort stared out his window in the twilight at the downpour, and he thought of the taste of her, the smell of her. Rain.

In Rodolphus Lestrange's mind, Voldemort had seen a pretty blonde witch, Holly Thorpe. He had seen Rodolphus and Holly flirting at the Ministry, time and time again. They'd kissed one day in a corridor near Rodolphus' office, and things had spiraled from there. Rodolphus had first fucked Holly in Holly's flat in Shoreditch, but Holly had flatmates. Eventually they'd started going to the Lestrange townhouse when Bellatrix was out. Sometimes Bellatrix would be shopping, or meeting with Voldemort in a small tactical group. This last time, the time they'd been caught, Bellatrix had gone to her mother and sister for tea, and was meant to be gone for several hours. But she'd come home early, and she'd appeared in the threshold of the master bedroom, taking Rodolphus quite by surprise.

Voldemort had sensed absolutely no compunction from Rodolphus about his affair. He was not sorry, not in the least, to have cheated on Bellatrix. He was not sorry that Bellatrix had seen Holly Thorpe naked on top of Rodolphus. He was only sorry that he'd been caught. And for some reason, that made Voldemort rather cross. He was not a sentimental man. He felt only the barest human emotions, usually anger or ambition. Still, knowing that Bellatrix had seen her husband in the midst of such a transgression, and knowing how very _not_ sorry Rodolphus was, made Voldemort cross.

She deserved better, he thought. He wasn't entirely certain why he thought such a thing. Perhaps it was because she was such a loyal servant and she obeyed him without question. Perhaps it was because she had surrendered her whole self - mind, body, and spirit - to Lord Voldemort and his movement. Perhaps he thought she deserved better because she was a married witch and her husband ought to treat her with some modicum of dignity and respect owing to the nature of their relationship. Voldemort had no idea why he thought Bellatrix needed more than she'd been given by Rodolphus. He had no idea why his mind was poking at him with the notion that she deserved revenge, that she had earned it. But for some reason, he found himself watching the rain as the sky went dark, and he thought about their brief kiss, and the revenge he'd promised her, and he sighed deeply.

He pulled back the sleeve of his robe, revealing his left forearm and the Dark Mark he'd tattooed on himself a few years earlier. It was dormant and pink right now. Voldemort traced over it with his fingertips and gulped. It flushed burgundy, and then black, and it started to burn. He shut his eyes and thought of her, thought of Bellatrix Lestrange, and his mind tingled with the force of Summoning her through the ether. He imagined her wild, black curls that exploded forth from her head. He thought of her wide eyes, the eyes that always searched him for approval, the eyes that always begged him to look back at her. He thought of her full lips and remembered the softness of them, the way they'd tasted.

Voldemort's eyes flew open, his breath coming quickly in his nostrils. He stared down at his black Dark Mark and blinked a few times. He had not expected such strong thoughts of her to come to mind in the process of Summoning her. Why was she so vibrant in his brain? Why had she painted herself so clearly, so vividly upon his consciousness? Voldemort trembled just a little where he stood, feeling rather foolish. She was just a servant, just a slave. She was no more than the rest of them.

But then his mind flashed with images of her in battle. He recalled the way she'd taken down Mabel Prewett with a beautiful Killing Curse earlier this summer. She'd laughed maniacally after her kill, but she'd quickly gotten back to work and had wrapped Addy Hives up in a scarlet web of torture, her Cruciatus Curse crackling through the night air as the battle raged around her. Now Voldemort shivered, thinking of just how vicious she was, how fearless and ruthless she was.

He saw a black blur appear in the twilight, just beyond the garden gate of Malfoy Manor. Bellatrix seemed to have come straight from wherever she'd been, for she had no waterproofed cloak on. She trotted through the guarded gate, which was charmed to admit her, and between the hedges. Voldemort gulped as she neared the front stairs of the manor. She had come quickly. Of course she had answered his Summons at once; she was loyal unto the death. She was his.

He thought of all the meetings where she'd stared at him, wide-eyed, leaning forward, hanging on his every word and waiting with bated breath for him to grant her the honour of one single glance, one fleeting comment. He thought of the one time he'd complimented her skill in torturing prisoners, and she'd actually started to cry a little, seeming embarrassed by her own reaction to Voldemort's praise. She was overwhelmed by him, he knew. She was…

She was a little in love with him, perhaps. Or, at the very least, she was completely infatuated.

Voldemort licked his bottom lip and wondered if he had given in entirely to foolishness. He should not give her an ounce of what she wanted, he thought. If he gave her even a taste of his attentions, even a hint of affection, she would get ideas. She would come to believe that he actually wanted her. And he couldn't have her labouring under that delusion.

She knocked on his office door then, jolting Voldemort out of his reverie. He cleared his throat roughly and snapped,

"Enter."

The door opened slowly, creaking a bit, and then Bellatrix came inside. She shut the door and stepped into the office. Voldemort just stared for a moment. He hadn't seen her in two days, since he'd kissed her after the meeting, and somehow he'd forgotten that she was a very pretty witch. Perhaps he hadn't forgotten entirely, but he was being beaten over the head with the fact just now. She had rain dripping from her curls, and her face was damp, and her features were so sharp that Voldemort had to look away for a moment. He sniffed.

"You're still not wearing your wedding ring," he observed, and Bellatrix sighed.

"No, Master. If you command it, I will put it back on."

"Melt the ring down for all I care," Voldemort snarled. "What do I care about your damned wedding ring?"

Bellatrix said nothing to that. She just stood with her hands folded before her, and Voldemort sucked his bottom lip as the silence settled over the office. It wasn't uncomfortable, for some reason, to stand quietly with her. Finally, he raised his eyes to meet hers, and he told her,

"I told you that you were going to have your revenge on your husband. Do you still want it?"

Bellatrix scoffed a little and nodded. "Yes, My Lord. I admit to feeling rather vengeful. He has unapologetically said that he intends on continuing with Holly Thorpe. And I am unable to divorce him, since we are bound by the ancient rites and were an arranged marriage. So he gets to have his pretty little girl, and there is nothing I can do -"

"Oh, yes. There is absolutely something to be done about it," Voldemort said sardonically. "There are all manner of things to be done about it, Bellatrix."

She parted her lips and stared at him, and his stomach quivered strangely at the sight of her like that. He cleared his throat again, feeling like he needed a drink. He went over to his bar cart in the corner and poured himself some firewhisky from his crystal bottle. He held up the bottle toward Bellatrix to offer her some, but she whispered,

"Erm… No, thank you."

"Suit yourself." Voldemort sipped at his drink and sniffed. "Right now, your husband feels almost nothing about all of this. He does not feel guilt, as I'm sure you've ascertained."

"You mean to make him feel guilty, My Lord?" Bellatrix frowned. Surely she knew better than that. She'd tortured enough prisoners to know that one could not induce guilt. Not really. Voldemort tipped his head and swirled his drink in his glass. He sipped again and said,

"I mean to make him feel envy."

"Envy," Bellatrix repeated. She looked quite surprised then. Voldemort knew why. She was beginning to understand what all of this would mean. Voldemort could kiss Bellatrix behind closed doors until the end of time, but that would do nothing to exact revenge upon Rodolphus. This vengeance would need to be public. Bellatrix's cheeks pinked. She looked shaky and uneasy. Voldemort smirked. He tipped his head.

"What, have you some objection to being the pet of the Dark Lord in front of everybody?"

"N-No, Master. Not at all," she insisted. "It's only that I… you see, I have longed for the slightest touch from you for a long while now. One glance. One word. It's all I've wanted of you."

"I know." He set down his drink on his desk and walked toward her. He watched her breath accelerate, saw her chest heaving as he neared, and his smirk grew. He brushed his knuckles along her cheekbone and whispered, "What if your lord and master held your hand? In front of everybody? What if he danced with you? Hm? What if Lord Voldemort kissed your lips in front of your husband and his brother and friends? In front of his little whore?"

"Master." Bellatrix let out a shaking breath and shut her eyes. Voldemort took her face in both of his hands, threading his fingers into her curls, and he bent down to press his lips to hers. She hummed, sounding like she could die happy right that moment. Voldemort urged her to deepen the kiss, sucking on her lip and pushing his tongue between her teeth. She squealed softly when he dragged his tongue over the roof of her mouth, and Voldemort realised something.

She had never been kissed like this before.

She had been married for two years. He knew; he'd been at her wedding. And she'd been betrothed to Rodolphus for many years prior to that. But the two of them had never kissed like this. It was obvious. He didn't even need to pry into her mind with Legilimency to sense that Bellatrix had never, ever been kissed in this way. Voldemort felt breathless for some reason at that thought, at the idea that he was the first one to do this to her, and he took the kiss further. He dragged his tongue over her lip. He squeezed his fingers in her hair. He crushed her mouth with pressure from hers until they both needed air, and when he pulled back, he licked the taste of rain from his lip. He grunted a little, quite against his will, and took a step back. He knew his thick brocade robes would hide the burgeoning erection he had, but he could feel it, and he shook a little where he stood from how deeply it had affected him to kiss her like that.

"Oh." Bellatrix looked like she was going to fall over. She swayed where she stood, and for a moment, Voldemort actually worried she would faint. But she steadied herself and finally blinked a few times, whispering, "Thank you, Master."

"The… the party," he muttered. When Bellatrix looked confused, he clarified, "Avery's garden party. He wasn't going to have it, with the war on, but I've insisted that life must continue as normal. To change our ways is to show weakness to the enemy, you understand."

"Of course, Master," Bellatrix nodded, and Voldemort continued,

"You'll attend Avery's party with Rodolphus. Neither of you has a choice. But at the party, your revenge will begin to materialise, Bellatrix."

She looked amazed. Just what did he have in mind for her at the garden party? Well, she would have to wait and find out. Voldemort reached for his drink on the desk behind him and swigged it down, thinking to himself that he had gone entirely mad, and that it was all her fault.

**Author's Note: ****Awwww****, yes. A party where Voldemort's going to make a fool out of Rodolphus with some (completely unexpected by everyone else) PDA toward Bellatrix? Who's ready? Thanks so very much for reading and a HUGE thank you for feedback.**


	3. At War

"Well. You look nice." Rodolphus came walking into the guest room, where Bellatrix was standing before the full-length mirror. She narrowed her eyes at her own reflection and dragged her fingers over the velvet top layer of her tulle skirts.

"As if I care what you think," she grumbled. Rodolphus stepped further into the room and looked Bellatrix up and down. She'd dressed in a frock that hit just below her knees, a gothic creation with laces up the front and draped sleeves. Her wild curls were pulled up and cascaded down from the crown of her head. She'd put on plum-coloured lipstick and had heavily shadowed her eyes with matching plum dust. She wore a pendant, a deep purple stone on a silver chain, and no other jewelry. She was not wearing her wedding ring. Rodolphus stroked at Bellatrix's arm, and she flinched, wincing and shaking her head. "Don't touch me."

"You are still my wife," he murmured. "I am still your husband."

"Must be nice," Bellatrix snapped, whirling on him and staring up into his pale blue eyes. "Must be very nice indeed, having your cake and eating it, too. How wonderful for you it must be, fucking your little harlot and then coming home to your elite, arranged wife. Hmmph."

"You know I think fondly of you," Rodolphus insisted calmly, and Bellatrix scoffed.

"Do I? Do I know that?" She laughed a little. "No. I don't know that."

Rodolphus looked almost hurt, and he said, "I think you are incredibly brave, and very skilled. I am amazed by what you do as a Death Eater. You are remarkably intelligent. I think you're one of the smartest people I know. And you are, without a doubt, the most beautiful witch I've ever seen."

Bellatrix's mouth fell open, and she just stared for a long moment. Finally she shrugged and demanded,

"If you think that of me, then why on Earth are you having an affair with Holly Thorpe?"

"Because you don't want me, Bella," said Rodolphus simply. "You hate sleeping beside me. You dislike letting me see you naked. You never want to kiss me. So I… I chased a bit of fun. And I am sorry for it, you know. I really am."

"But you're not going to stop," Bellatrix spat. "You aren't going to stop seeing Holly Thorpe, are you?"

"She makes me happy," Rodolphus pronounced. "She wants me."

"Well." Bellatrix sniffed and stepped back from the mirror. "I am very sorry, Dolph, that things are so distant between you and me. We were, after all, little more than babies when our parents betrothed us. Don't you remember going to Hogwarts as first-years? We were eleven years old, and we already knew we were going to be married. There was never anything for us besides one another. Perhaps you're right; I ought to have tried a little harder at making us happy."

"Bella." Rodolphus stepped closer to her and brushed his knuckles over her hair. "Let's be honest with ourselves, shall we? We are very different, you and I. I don't think we would have ever been able to truly make one another happy, no matter how hard we tried. But we are married, and I am going to keep seeing Holly. You can wear your ring, or I shall keep carrying it in my pocket. That's your choice."

"You hold onto it," Bellatrix said quietly, "and maybe someday I'll want it back. Not today."

They Disapparated from their townhouse and landed on the sprawling grounds of the Avery estate in Cornwall. It was a bright, sunny afternoon, and the garden party was in full swing. Bellatrix walked with Rodolphus through some hedges to an open space. There were small wrought-iron tables and with chairs set up, and people were milling about, some sitting and some standing. Flowers were floating all over the place, and a chamber orchestra of enchanted instruments was playing lovely music across the garden. There were larger round tables with cheeses and meats, and another filled with puff pastries and biscuits. There was a bar with a House-Elf serving drinks, and Bellatrix huffed to Rodolphus,

"Let's get something to drink, shall we?"

Holly wouldn't be here, she knew. His whore Holly Thorpe was a Half-Blood, a nobody from a nothing family. She would never be invited to an event like this. But Lord Voldemort would be here. Bellatrix scanned her eyes around, looking for him, but he was not in attendance. She seethed out a breath and walked up to the bar with Rodolphus.

"A rum with orange juice and a gin and tonic," ordered Rodolphus. Bellatrix sighed. She'd never been one for fancy drinks. She was a witch of simple tastes when it came to alcohol, and Rodolphus knew it. She accepted the gin and tonic he handed her, and she sipped at it as they walked away from the bar. Suddenly her mother and father appeared, grinning like fools as they walked up.

"Bellatrix!" gushed Druella. "I feel like it's been ages. My dear, you must write and visit your poor mother. I can't see you at social events and never between."

"You know I'm busy, Mum," Bellatrix said.

"And you're busy, too, eh, Rodolphus?" asked Cygnus in his booming voice. "I hear the Ministry's thrusting you up the ranks."

"I'm doing everything I can to serve the Dark Lord as effectively as possible from inside the Ministry," Rodolphus assured his in-laws. This party had been sealed up with protective enchantments, owing to the war. Rodolphus was one of many of Voldemort's spies inside the Ministry. He was also a Death Eater in battle, just like Bellatrix.

"So sorry to see you drinking gin," pouted Druella. "We've been hoping for baby news."

"Baby news!" spat Bellatrix. "Have you quite lost your mind?"

"It's a reasonable thing to ponder, Bella," said Rodolphus, almost gently. "We've been married for two years now."

Bellatrix let out a noise of horrified disgust and swigged from her drink. Druella looked confused, and Cygnus frowned.

"Druella, darling, come and get some puff pastry with me, will you?" Cygnus suggested.

"Yes, Mum, do go get food with Daddy," Bellatrix said, rolling her eyes a little. Her parents walked off then, going toward the tables that had been set up. Bellatrix whirled on Rodolphus and took another drink of her gin and tonic.

"What were you thinking?" she hissed. "Encouraging them like that?"

"Well," he shrugged, "maybe it's time, Bella. Time to have a baby. Don't you think that perhaps -"

"No! No, I do not think so." Bellatrix finished off her drink and set the glass down on a nearby table. She scowled at Rodolphus and crossed her arms, saying sourly, "I will never, ever bear you a child, Dolph, so don't go getting that stupid idea into your thick skull."

He looked like he was going to answer her, but then his cheeks coloured and he dipped into a bow. Bellatrix's brows furrowed, and she turned round to see why Rodolphus had descended. Then she saw him - Lord Voldemort, walking straight toward Rodolphus and Bellatrix. He smirked at her, looking devilishly handsome in dark green linen robes. He strode straight up to Bellatrix, and she bowed her head, murmuring reverently,

"Master. How good to see you."

"Bellatrix." He put a knuckle beneath her chin and tipped it up until she was looking at him, wide-eyed and amazed. Rodolphus stared from beside her, and Voldemort muttered, "Hello, Rodolphus."

"My Lord," breathed Rodolphus. Bellatrix flicked her eyes from her husband back to her master, who still had a knuckle beneath her chin. He shocked her then by bending down until his lips were beside her ear, and he hummed,

"You look good enough to eat. Thank goodness they've provided actual food."

Bellatrix could not help smiling at that. She expected him to stand back up then, but he kissed the skin on her cheek just beside her ear, and she shivered. He lingered there, holding her chin and brushing his lips round her skin, and he whispered,

"Really, you do look lovely."

"Master," Bellatrix choked out, and he let out a low rumble of a laugh as he slowly stood. Beside Bellatrix, Rodolphus looked completely and utterly shocked. He would never have expected the Dark Lord to touch Bellatrix, to kiss her cheek like that. Bellatrix could read poor Rodolphus' abject surprise on his face. Then Voldemort took things one step further; he moved beside Bellatrix and put his hand to the small of her back. He held it there protectively, possessively, and Bellatrix almost melted against his touch.

"Come. Let's get some cheese and crackers," Voldemort suggested. He led Bellatrix away, leaving Rodolphus behind in open-mouthed horror. Voldemort kept his hand on Bellatrix's back as they neared the large table with all the food, and he used his left hand to give her a small plate. She managed a clumsy _thank-you, My Lord_, and as they moved round the table getting cheese and crackers, she noticed that he kept his hand on the small of her back. She relished the feel of him touching her there, of him taking possession of her, guiding her. Finally he took his hand off of her so they could stand and eat, and when they did, facing one another, Voldemort asked her quietly,

"I think he's beginning to feel it. Envy. I can look in his mind to find out, but Legilimency is rather obvious, and I'd rather toy with him a bit."

"Toy with him," Bellatrix repeated. She shut her eyes and reminded herself aloud, "This is just a game."

"It is… a manoeuvre," Voldemort insisted, taking a bite of cheese. "You're a combat veteran, Bellatrix. Do you not find yourself at war?"

She thought of the way he'd fucked Holly Thorpe in Bellatrix's bed. She thought of the way he'd insisted he would keep seeing Holly. She thought of how he'd walked in on her getting dressed today and insisted that he found her beautiful and intelligent and vicious, but that he needed Holly anyway. And she thought of how he'd suggested that they should have a baby. Bellatrix snarled quietly and nodded.

"Yes, Master. I am at war."

"Do you dance often, the two of you?" Voldemort asked, setting his empty plate down on a table. Bellatrix frowned.

"Who, Dolph and I? Erm… no, not really, Master. Sometimes if we're at a wedding or something and we really have to do it for appearances' sake, we'll dance, but, no. Do you know, he told me I was the most beautiful witch he'd ever seen?"

Voldemort's face was steely for a long moment. Bellatrix worried she'd said something wrong, so she clarified,

"I was getting dressed for the party, and he came in and told me I looked pretty, and then he told me that I was good in combat, and very intelligent, and the most beautiful witch he'd ever seen."

"Then why does he have Holly Thorpe?" spat Voldemort, sounding disgusted. Bellatrix shrugged.

"I asked him the same thing. He says it's because I don't want him. But then, here at the party, he said we should have a baby, so -"

"What? No. Absolutely not. I forbid it." Voldemort's cheeks reddened. He seized Bellatrix's cheeks in his hands and shook his head. "You are meant for much more than squeezing out a mewling little creature. You are a soldier in a war. _My_ soldier, and I forbid you from mothering a child."

"Yes, Master." Bellatrix instinctively reached up to cover his hands with hers, and for some reason, he did not stop or correct her. He tightened his fingers on her a little and whispered,

"He's watching us right now. Your filthy, ridiculous husband is watching us right this moment."

Bellatrix nodded up at him. She stared into his eyes, his coal-dark eyes that contrasted so sharply with Rodolphus'. She gazed up at him and listened to the music playing, to the laughter and the surrounding conversation, and she finally begged him,

"Make him feel envy, Master."

Voldemort bent down and swiftly touched his lips to Bellatrix's. She sucked in air hard at the feel of his mouth on hers. The kiss lasted only the briefest of moments, and then he stood again and dragged his thumbs under Bellatrix's eyes.

"Well," he said crisply, lowering his hands from her face, "I think that's quite enough for one party, don't you? I've made my appearance; I can go now."

He stepped back from her and smirked a little. Bellatrix was breathless where she stood. He'd just kissed her - on the _lips_ \- right in front of everyone. The party did seem to have gone rather quiet, and Bellatrix knew it was because so many people had seen what he'd done. As he strode away from Bellatrix, people curtsied, bowed, and generally moved out of his way. Bellatrix stood with a racing heart, and when she turned her gaze back to Rodolphus, he was standing with his jaw halfway to the floor.

Bellatrix approached him, wringing her hands together and licking her bottom lip. She breathed in and could swear she could still smell the leather and wood the Dark Lord carried with him. Oh, how she craved him, she thought. She wanted so much more than a kiss on Avery's lawn. She wanted to… she wanted all of him.

But of course, she knew, he would never give her that. She must be grateful for this little game they were playing, this cruel trick they were inflicting upon Rodolphus.

"What was _that?_" Rodolphus demanded, and Bellatrix shrugged.

"Just a little kiss," she said lightly. "He's pleased with me."

"Pleased with you?" Rodolphus repeated, his eyes bugging out. "He looked like he wanted to carry you upstairs and take you to a bedroom."

"Did he?" Bellatrix threw up her hands. "Well, he's the Dark Lord. He can do whatever he likes."

"Yes, including kissing my wife in front of a crowd of people, apparently." Rodolphus seemed embarrassed and cross, and then he asked in a quiet voice, "Are you and he… you know… are you…?"

"Oh, I wouldn't begin to know how to answer that, Dolph," Bellatrix laughed. She looked around and sighed. "This party is terribly dull. I'll meet you at home."

And with that, she walked away, a grin of triumph painted on her face.

**Author's Note: Yes! Possessive/PDA Voldemort! Now, raise your hand if you think we haven't heard the last of Holly Thorpe. Raise your other hand if you think Voldemort**'**s going to** **realize he enjoys this "game" just a little too much. Everyone got both hands raised? Okay. Good. Onward ho!**


	4. Tea and Steak and Lobster

"Rookwood. Come in." Lord Voldemort sat at his desk and reached for his glass of iced Gillywater. He sipped the cool beverage, thinking that it must be awfully warm outside today, judging by how stuffy his office had become. As Rookwood approached the desk, Voldemort waved his pale yew wand about and nonverbally incanted an _Airefresca_ charm to refresh and cool the air in the room. He set down his wand and gestured for Rookwood to sit.

The thin, bearded man opposite him was his most trusted infiltrator in the Ministry of Magic, and Voldemort had tasked Rookwood with sifting through some departmental records and finding him some valuable information. Voldemort held out his hand expectantly and said,

"The dossier?"

"Yes, Master." Rookwood reached into his leather briefcase and pulled out a brown folder. He passed the folder to Voldemort, who accepted it and opened it.

"Did you have any trouble getting ahold of the records, then?" Voldemort murmured, but Rookwood shook his head and said,

"No, sir. I've loads of connections in that office. It was quite simple to duplicate the records and return the originals. You can keep those copies for your own use."

"Thank you. If this dossier is complete, you may go," said Voldemort, and Rookwood stood, shutting his briefcase. He bowed low and said,

"I am always at your service, My Lord. In every way."

"Yes, thank you," Voldemort said, feeling bored and impatient. He waved his hand to dismiss Rookwood, who turned toward the door and left without another word. Once the door was shut, Voldemort sipped at his Gillywater again and read the first page of the dossier.

_Name: HOLLY THORPE, _said the Ministry employee record form. Her date of birth was given, and for some reason, Voldemort took note of the fact that Holly had been born just a few days before Bellatrix. He remembered Bellatrix's birthday because it had been quite an occasion for Druella Rosier and Cygnus Black to have their first child. And last year, for Bellatrix's twentieth birthday, her mother had thrown her a party that loads of people had attended. Holly Thorpe's birthday was the eighteenth of September, just three days before Bellatrix's.

_Hair: BLONDE. Eyes: GREEN. Height: 170 cm. Wand: HOLLY WOOD, 12 INCHES, VEELA HAIR CORE. Education: HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY (RAVENCLAW). Employment: DEPARTMENT OF MAGICAL GAMES AND SPORTS - BROOMSTICK REGULATION COMMISSION. Marital Status: SINGLE/UNWED. Issue: NO CHILDREN._

Voldemort pinched his lips as he flicked the first page of information aside. He read her address in Shoreditch. He read about her clean criminal record and her history of employment in the Department of Magical Games and Sports, starting out with clerical work. He came across a photograph of her, grinning and turning a little in the moving image, and his stomach twisted. This was the witch who was wounding Bellatrix so badly by sleeping with her husband over and over again.

Why did Voldemort care, he wondered? Why should it matter to him what Holly Thorpe did or what Rodolphus Lestrange did? They were all adults, all of them, and they could all make their own decisions. And, anyway, the happenings of his slaves' marriages did not affect him. Or, at least, they should not affect him. He scowled at the image of Holly and recalled Rodolphus' memories of her, the ones he'd seen with Legilimency. Rodolphus thought Holly was the sun and the stars. He thought she was beauty incarnate, that she smelled like lemon and vanilla. He was falling hard for Holly. But he was married to Bellatrix.

Voldemort slammed shut the dossier on Holly Thorpe and shoved it aside. He drank the rest of his Gillywater and pushed back his chair. He stood and moved round his desk, pacing for a little while in his office as he thought.

He hadn't been the slightest bit embarrassed kissing Bellatrix at Avery's party three days earlier. He'd not seen her since then; he'd been busy working with Mulciber, Nott, and Selwyn to ascertain more about Dumbledore's friends. At the garden party, he'd put his hands on Bellatrix whilst everyone had been watching, and it had felt good and natural. He hadn't minded in the least, guiding her around by her back. He had liked tasting her lips with her parents and husband watching them. He'd come back to Malfoy Manor, to his office, and he'd struggled to read a book on goblins for a while. But she'd occupied his mind for the next few days. She'd been a pestering sort of presence in his thoughts. He'd been working, meeting with Mulciber and Nott and Selwyn, but he'd been thinking of the taste and smell of rain. He'd been thinking of the feel of her back beneath his hand. He'd been thinking of the sight of her in her party dress, of her plum-coloured lips.

Now Voldemort paced his office and eyed the folder full of information about Holly Thorpe. Why did he care about this? Why had he bothered to command Rookwood to get Holly's records from the Ministry? Why on Earth was he troubling himself with all of this mundane marital nonsense? Bellatrix was just his soldier. His servant. His slave.

And yet, as Voldemort strode briskly out of his office and headed down the foyer stairs, he contemplated that what happened in the Lestranges' marriage was his business, because he was the Dark Lord. He was their Master. What affected their lives was absolutely his business. He walked out the front doors of Malfoy Manor and pulled his wand out of his robes. He stalked through the hedges and out the guarded gate to the Apparition Point. He still was not certain what was drawing him to her, but here he was, whirling through the pinching black void and thinking of the Lestrange townhouse in London.

They would never expect Lord Voldemort to come calling, he knew, and he still was not sure why he was doing so. He tried telling himself that this was all part of the game. This was all part of the elaborate ruse designed to inject Rodolphus with some envy. Yes. That was why Voldemort was here. He marched right up to the front door of the townhouse, a white row house in an elegant neighbourhood, and he knocked on the scarlet door. After a moment, the red door swung open, and a House-Elf stood staring up at Lord Voldemort. Suddenly a voice shouted from upstairs,

"Punky, tell whoever it is that I shall be there in one moment!"

"My master will be with you in one moment," wheezed the House-Elf, and Voldemort rolled his eyes as he stepped over the threshold.

"Yes. I heard," he said. The House-Elf shut the door, and Voldemort asked it, "Where is Madam Lestrange?"

"She is not in, sir," said the House-Elf. "She went shopping in Diagon Alley."

Voldemort frowned. He stared upstairs and listened carefully. He heard Rodolphus' voice muttering something, then a witch's voice saying something quietly back. Then Voldemort heard a small _crack_ and realised someone had just Disapparated.

Holly. He'd had Holly here.

Voldemort squared his jaw. He was quite cross, all of a sudden. He cleared his throat and folded his hands before him. Rodolphus appeared at the top of the stairs, emerging from a bedroom looking rumpled. He had a dress shirt mostly tucked into his wrinkled trousers. He had no tie on, but he'd tossed on a lightweight outer robe. His chestnut brown hair was a mess. When he saw Voldemort, his blue eyes went round as saucers, and he came sprinting down the stairs.

"Master," he breathed. "I do apologise for my disheveled appearance. I was… erm…"

"I'm well aware of what what you were doing." Voldemort narrowed his eyes. "Do you bring her here every time Bellatrix leaves the house?"

Rodolphus' cheeks pinked, and his lips parted. "M-My Lord, I do apologise for -"

"Loads of apologising today," Voldemort sniffed. "When is Bellatrix expected back? I need to speak with her."

"With all due respect, Master, couldn't you have just Summoned her through her Dark Mark?" Rodolphus suggested. Voldemort took a long breath.

"Change of scenery," he explained. "I was not expecting to find you with Miss Thorpe. So sorry if I interrupted your fun. Does your Elf make tea?"

"Yes, of course, My Lord." Rodolphus gulped and led Voldemort into the parlor to the left. Rodolphus waited until Voldemort sat on the cream-coloured divan, and then he nervously perched himself on the matching chair opposite. He barked at the House-Elf, "Punky, tea. Now."

"Yes, Master Rodolphus." The House-Elf snapped his fingers and waved his hand a bit, and a tray with two steaming cups of steeped tea appeared on the table between Rodolphus and Voldemort. There was a creamer with milk and a cup of sugar cubes. Voldemort used the tongs to drop one cube of sugar into his tea, then picked it up and sipped slowly.

"So," he said, "How go things at the Ministry? I hear you've been promoted."

"Yes, sir," Rodolphus nodded, leaving his own tea alone. "It means far more access to personnel, so Rookwood and Yaxley are pleased with me at the moment."

"Well, that makes the two of them, then," Voldemort sniffed. Rodolphus looked terrified. Voldemort shrugged and wondered, "When did you say Bellatrix would be back?"

"Erm… I don't know, My Lord. Should be soon. She's been gone for some time, and, erm… H-Holly was actually just leaving when you arrived."

"Oh, was she?" Voldemort sipped more of his tea. He suddenly realised that this situation had become more complex than he'd anticipated, and that he was going to need to improvise a little if he was to achieve his goal. He took another sip of tea and mused, "She's very beautiful. Your wife."

Rodolphus looked very anxious. He snatched his teacup and took a big sip of tea, then nodded.

"Yes, Master. She's incredibly beautiful. The most beautiful witch in the world, I think."

Voldemort let out a long, calm sigh. He stared down into his tea and murmured, "You're very lucky, being married to her. You're a very lucky man, Rodolphus."

"Yes, I am, Master," Rodolphus agreed, swigging down more tea. Voldemort tipped his head and stared at Rodolphus. The other man's pale blue eyes were wide with fear. Voldemort slowly sipped some more tea and said quietly,

"So strange, the way you treat her. Given how beautiful she is and how very lucky you are."

Rodolphus licked his lip and looked like he wanted to melt into the floor. But before the poor man could say anything, the front door of the townhouse crashed open, and Bellatrix came careening inside. She shouted up the stairs,

"Dolph, if you've got your stupid whore up there, you've got thirty seconds to get her out of my house before I -"

"Bella," said Rodolphus, rising to his feet. Bellatrix snapped her attention to the parlour, and her jaw dropped when she saw Voldemort. He stayed seated, holding his tea, and smirked at her. She bowed her head and kept her face down as she walked into the parlour. She was holding two arms' worth of shopping bags, which she set down in the corner of the parlour.

"My Lord," Bellatrix said, sounding breathless. "Welcome to our home."

"Thank you. Your husband has been entertaining me whilst we waited for you to come home. I came for you, so." Voldemort sipped his tea again, and Bellatrix just stared. Voldemort set down his empty teacup and asked, "What did you buy?"

"Oh. Erm…" Bellatrix glanced back toward her shopping bags, her cheeks going dark. "Some new dresses for the autumn from Twillfit and Tattings. New shoes. Some Charmed-to-Stay makeup. Stupid girlish things."

"Hmm." Voldemort tipped his head a little, rising slowly. He towered over Bellatrix, and then he approached her and tucked her hair behind her ear. She stared up at him, and he bent down to kiss her forehead as he hummed, "You are pretty today. Every day, but today especially."

Bellatrix looked dizzy then. Her eyes flicked to the buttons on Voldemort's black tunic beneath his outer robe, and then she met his dark eyes again. She whispered,

"I'm so glad you're here, Master."

"Well, I came to collect you," he said quietly, brushing his knuckles over her cheekbone. Bellatrix looked confused, so he clarified, "You'll be dining with me tonight. At Malfoy Manor. Just the two of us."

Bellatrix's wide brown eyes bugged out a little. "Really? Erm… really, My Lord?"

"Do you prefer steak or lobster? No. Wait. How about both?" Voldemort curled up half his mouth and kept stroking her cheek. "I'm hungry."

He turned over his shoulder to see Rodolphus staring with tears in his eyes. The man was utterly shocked. It was obvious. But he was also an unimaginable hypocrite, Voldemort thought. He'd been fucking Holly Thorpe when Voldemort had arrived. What right did Rodolphus have to be hurt or angry about the Dark Lord giving attention to Bellatrix? Suddenly Voldemort felt intensely possessive of her, for some strange reason. She was _his_. His soldier. His servant. His slave. She might be Rodolphus' wife, but she belonged to Lord Voldemort. He turned back to her and bent to touch his lips to hers. This time, he let them linger, for far longer than he'd done at the garden party. He held her jaw in his hand and pressed his lips against hers for a long moment, and when he pulled away, he mumbled,

"Come with me and have dinner."

"Yes, Master." Bellatrix seemed like she would faint. She turned her eyes to Rodolphus and shrugged a little. "I'll be home later tonight."

"Yes. All right." Rodolphus cleared his throat roughly. "Enjoy yourself, then."

"Thanks." Bellatrix appeared to tremble as she walked beside Voldemort to the foyer. She Disapparated with him, and when they came to in the gardens outside Malfoy Manor, she stared at him in complete shock. He shrugged a little and shook his head.

"Have you something to say?"

"That was… very convincing, Master," Bellatrix told him.

"Convincing," he repeated, and Bellatrix clarified,

"You certainly made him envious. Your little game is going swimmingly."

Voldemort's stomach ached strangely at that idea. He pinched his lips and pronounced,

"I made him squirm before you got there. He was with Holly Thorpe when I arrived; I had him under my boot during tea. Then you came and I sealed up the humiliation and envy. Yes. I think the game went very well. I consider the goals we set out to achieve very well attained."

"So it's all finished now?" Bellatrix's curls blew round her face, and she chomped her lip. "This game of revenge… it's over now, isn't it?"

"It's… erm…" Voldemort sucked his teeth and glanced toward the manor. He stared at his office window and thought of the dossier of Holly Thorpe on his desk. He thought about having dinner with Bellatrix. He thought about the fact that he wanted more than dinner from her. He wanted so much more, more than he should ever take from a servant or a slave. But she was _his_, and she would give him absolutely everything. Why should he deny himself?

He turned his face back toward her and saw her hair blowing in the warm glow of the descending sun. He saw her wide eyes studying him, her full lips parted in expectation. And then he decided that he was going to take what he wanted… what they both wanted. And if it made Rodolphus feel envious, that was fine. Let the game continue.

"Steak and lobster," he said, walking toward Bellatrix. "You'll eat steak and lobster upstairs with me."

She gasped then, for he pulled her close by the small of her back and bent, crushing her mouth with his. She moaned softly as his tongue crept between her lips, as he tugged at her bottom lip with his teeth. His heart began to pick up, and he realised anyone in the manor could look out a window and see him out here snogging her like a frantic schoolboy. But he didn't care. He just kissed her like she was the air he needed to breathe, and she finally put her hands on his shoulders. He wanted more of that, he thought. More touching. He wanted her hands on different parts of him. He had a wild, fleeting thought, the notion of her fingers wrapping round his cock, and he ripped himself from her mouth. He stared down at her, at her pearlescent, pouting lips and her enormous eyes, and he suddenly wanted her very badly.

He thought, for a crazed half second, that he should take her upstairs to his suite. He should plunder her on his bed and send her home to her philandering husband with his seed between her legs. Yes. That was what he ought to do.

"Steak and lobster," he whispered, his voice not coming out nearly as clearly as he'd meant for it to do. He scowled and shut his eyes, licking his lip and tasting her there. He shuddered and mumbled, "Let's go have dinner, shall we?"

"As you wish, My Lord." Bellatrix's voice was quite steady then, and when he opened his eyes, she nodded and said, very deliberately, "You must always have whatever you wish for. I hope you know that I will always give you anything you want. I am your devoted servant. I am grateful for everything you have done for me… in my life."

"Yes. Quite so." Voldemort cleared his throat. "Mulciber, Nott, and Selwyn have been busy. I should like to discuss that matter with you. Over dinner. Let's go."

He turned toward the manor and walked away from her, and he heard her footsteps padding on the grass behind him.

**Author's Note: Well, well, well. We got to watch Voldemort make Rodolphus squirm. Then we got to watch Voldemort fall, just a little. So, what's ****gonna** **happen at this dinner? And what's ****gonna** **happen after dinner? ****Mwah** **hahahaha**… **I must say, I am **_**really**_ **looking forward to the next few chapters!** **:****} Thanks so very much for reading, and a massive thank-you for feedback.**


	5. No More Games

"I find it impossible to believe the House-Elf couldn't source some fresh lobster," huffed Lord Voldemort, sawing angrily into his steak. Bellatrix smiled a bit and cut off another bite of her own meat. She put it into her mouth, chewed, and stared across the broad, shiny wooden table at Voldemort.

"Really, My Lord, it's no trouble," she insisted, taking a sip of red wine. "The steak is delicious."

"Yes, well, I wanted lobster," he said, and she couldn't help thinking that he was pouting just a little. She tipped her head and tried not to smirk at his tantrum over the food.

"So," Voldemort said in a crisp voice as Bellatrix scooped a bite of mashed potato, "Mulciber, Nott, and Selwyn have been busily monitoring the locations of Dumbledore's allies for me. We've got a lock on a few of them, but I'd prefer to have several more before we launch an attack. It should be soon; we'll strike four or five at once in a grand assault. Naturally, I'll want you on a combat squad. Perhaps you can hit Marna Beckwith; you never liked her, did you?"

Bellatrix grinned broadly. "No, Master. I never did like Marna. I took a few of her fingers off in a duel earlier this year, but, alas, it wasn't her wand hand. I'll look forward to killing her."

"You look forward to killing," Voldemort nodded, running his finger over the rim of his wine glass. He narrowed his eyes at Bellatrix and suggested, "You enjoy making people hurt. You enjoy snuffing out lives. Don't you?"

"I confess it, Master," Bellatrix sighed. "I am a bit bloodthirsty. Just a bit monstrous."

"You are delightfully dangerous," Voldemort said, curling up half his mouth, "and I anxiously await the sight of you in the glow of a Cruciatus, in the aftermath of Killing Curse. The things you do in my service, Bellatrix…"

He shut his eyes, and then he picked up his wine glass and took a large sip. He sawed off another bite of steak and chewed it, and Bellatrix cleared her throat, sensing tension from him. She speared some asparagus with her fork and chewed it, and there was quiet in the room for a moment. But then she asked him,

"You said Rodolphus had Holly in the house when you arrived there, My Lord?"

"Yes, he did," Voldemort snapped. He flicked his eyes up to Bellatrix, and she felt her stomach sink. She shook her head and said,

"It's time for me to get out of there. I'll go to Diagon Alley first thing tomorrow and meet with Hamish and Hamish Realty to find a cosy flat somewhere."

"You're moving out?" Voldemort frowned deeply, looking genuinely concerned. Bellatrix shrugged.

"The laws are quite clear, Master. In a marriage conducted with the Ancient Rites, there can be no divorce, but in the case of egregious offence by a spouse, separation is perfectly permissible. Don't worry; Dolph and I will still attend social events together and everything."

"Well, why should _you_ be the one to move out and not him?" Voldemort demanded. "Make him go find some small flat, and you keep the townhouse with the Elf."

"With all due respect, My Lord," Bellatrix said, "Dolph has made that house filthy with what he's done. I don't want to live there anymore."

"So, what, you'll have some flat all to yourself? Privately?" Voldemort gave Bellatrix a long look, and she felt her skin tingle. She wondered just what he meant by his question. Did he mean…? Surely not. She just nodded and affirmed,

"Yes, Master. I'll have my own place. I'll go tomorrow to Diagon Alley to get it all set up. The law is clear that I'm entitled to live separately from Dolph if I wish, so… but I must tell you how very grateful I am to you. What you did, making him feel anxious before I arrived back at the house today, and then what you did once I got back. I'm just so very grateful."

"Are you?" Voldemort stared down at his plate. He'd mostly eaten his food by now, but he poked a little at the last vestiges of his steak, and he coughed quietly. Bellatrix felt her heart speed up, for some reason, and she barreled on,

"I can't tell you how much I appreciate you carrying out this little manoeuvre, this revenge. What Dolph has done to me earned him embarrassment and worse, and you gave it to him. You didn't have to do it, for I am just your humble servant, and yet you played your cruel little game. Thank you."

Voldemort gazed into his wine and was silent. Bellatrix worried she'd said something wrong, for he seemed a little cross. But then he picked up his wine, sipped it, set it down, and turned his eyes on Bellatrix. When he spoke, his voice was low and lethal.

"I am tired of playing games."

Bellatrix gulped. She nodded, and she bowed her head, staring at the napkin on her lap. She mumbled anxiously,

"You said our goals were achieved. I understand, Master. You're through toying with him. Still, I am grateful."

"Plainly, you do _not_ understand." Voldemort's words snapped across the table, and Bellatrix looked up to see him pushing his chair back from the table a bit. He beckoned to her with one long finger, and he said quite firmly, "Come here, Bellatrix."

She shivered where she sat, but she flew to her feet and hurried to toss her napkin down on the chair. She walked round the table, her skirts swishing around her. When she reached Voldemort's chair, he stared at his wine again and instructed her,

"Sit down."

Bellatrix nodded and reached for the chair beside him. But Voldemort snatched at her wrist and yanked her toward him, and he glared up at her.

"_Sit. Down,_" he hissed, and Bellatrix suddenly understood. He wanted her to sit atop him. She felt her lips fall open in surprise, and her mouth was suddenly very dry. She was clumsy as she straddled Voldemort, as she arranged herself on his lap. She found herself facing him, her face so close to his that she could see the evening scruff growing in on his cheeks and jaw. She breathed in the scent of leather and wood that he carried, and she shuddered with intense want. He tucked her curls behind her ear and released her wrist, and he whispered again,

"I am tired of playing games."

He took Bellatrix's cheeks in his hands and touched his forehead to hers, and she hummed with desire as she wriggled atop him. He seethed through clenched teeth and mumbled,

"You would give me anything I wanted."

"Everything, Master," Bellatrix confirmed. "I would give you the world if I could."

"Lucky for you, my wants are far humbler," he told her. "I want your hands on me."

"Mmmph." Bellatrix wanted so badly then to kiss him, but she did not dare initiate. She reached out and touched his chest, pushing past the top layer of his outer robe and rubbing at his pectoral muscles through the thin layer of his tunic. Voldemort pressed his lips to Bellatrix's then and squeezed at her cheeks, and Bellatrix's fingers convulsed a little on his chest. He deepened the kiss, tugging her lip between his teeth and then brushing his tongue into her mouth. Her hands flew up to his head, caressing his jaw and his close-cropped hair as he kissed her.

She started to feel firmness beneath her, the prodding evidence of his want, and she ground down against it. He groaned into her mouth, his own hands migrating to her torso. He cupped a breast in one hand and compressed his fingers, and his other hand dragged up and down her ribcage.

For a while, they stayed like that, touching one another, kissing deeply, with Bellatrix rolling her hips against the growing erection beneath her. But after several minutes, it wasn't enough. Bellatrix's ears were ringing, and she could hardly breathe. She was seeing spots from how badly she wanted her master. His hands were tight on her now. He was throbbing beneath her. His breath was coming quick and shallow through his nostrils. Bellatrix knew he was just as badly off as she was. When at last they broke their kiss, she stared up at him with a question in her eyes. Were they going to take off their clothes? Were they going to go upstairs?

"Not tonight." Voldemort answered her unasked question, pushing away a curl that had fallen in front of her eyes. He breathed deeply and shut his eyes for a moment. "When you've got your flat, then… erm… you know."

Then they could do all sorts of things in private, Bellatrix thought. She gulped and nodded. She blinked a few times and wondered absently,

"Will the mission to destroy Dumbledore's friends happen this weekend? Everyone was going to be at Elodie Avery's wedding to Arlo Yaxley. It's the event of the summer. Even Holly Thorpe will be invited, because she and Elodie were friends at school."

Voldemort's eyes sprang open, and he scowled. He licked his lip and demanded,

"What do you mean, Holly Thorpe is invited?"

Bellatrix felt guilty now. She'd entirely ruined the mood. All the sensual deliciousness they'd built up kissing and touching had dissolved. She made a move to climb off of Voldemort's lap, but he yanked her back down and snapped again,

"Holly Thorpe is going to be at the wedding of an Avery to a Yaxley?"

Bellatrix cleared her throat. "Yes, Master. As you know, not all of the Sacred Twenty-Eight are Slytherins. Elodie Avery was a Ravenclaw. She was good friends at Hogwarts with Holly Thorpe. Last I heard, Holly was to be Elodie's maid of honour. I'm sure Dolph will dance with her. I won't stop him."

Voldemort's cheeks coloured, and he squared his jaw. His nostrils flared a little, and she sensed rage coming off of him. Suddenly Bellatrix was rather afraid, and she tensed up. He reached for her hand, and she was surprised when he laced his fingers through hers and said,

"Well, if your stupid, good-for-nothing husband means to dance with his whore at that wedding, he'll have to watch you dancing with your master."

Bellatrix blinked. Had he lost his mind? Lord Voldemort did not attend weddings. There were many Pureblood weddings and funerals every year. The only social occasions Voldemort attended were the annual summer garden party and the annual Christmas party, at which he made fleeting appearances. But a wedding? Had he gone mad?

"My Lord," Bellatrix said cautiously, "I don't want you to -"

"I shall do as I please," he snarled, "and if I want to dance with you, you will dance with me. Do you understand?"

"Y-Yes, Master," Bellatrix whispered. "But I thought… I thought you were through with him. With Dolph. I thought you were finished with your little game."

"This is not a game," Voldemort hissed through clenched teeth. He seized Bellatrix's face in his hands and smashed his mouth onto hers so hard that their teeth clacked together. Bellatrix gasped and grappled at his robes for a moment before settling into the kiss. She felt him reach around her body and pull her closer by the small of her back, and on instinct, she wrapped her arms up around his shoulders. They were so close now, bodies pressed together, and Bellatrix sucked in air hard when he ripped his mouth from hers and moved to her neck. He began to lap and suck at the skin beneath her ear, pulling it between his teeth. He was leaving marks, she realised. He was biting and suckling so hard that she'd have purple bruises all over her neck. She went wet between her legs at that thought. She moaned helplessly when he moved to the other side of her neck and started marking her up there.

Rodolphus would see this, she thought, feeling dizzy. Rodolphus would see the evidence of Voldemort's rough kissing. Bellatrix ground down against him again and then started to feel her pleasure building inside of her. Things were being rubbed in just the right way; the friction was delectable. She moved her hands into Voldemort's short hair and scratched gently at his scalp with her nails, and he grunted onto her neck. She rolled her hips on him and felt so close, so near to the edge. He let go of her neck, releasing her with a _pop_ from his mouth, and then his swollen lips found hers again. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, and Bellatrix tangled her tongue with his as she realised what was happening. She was coming, right there atop him. She could feel her body clenching, could feel the detonation of fire in her veins. She hummed a low keen of satisfaction against his mouth, and his hands stroked at her thighs.

"Master," she whispered helplessly once he'd pulled his mouth from hers. "Master, Master…"

"This is not a game." He'd snarled it before, but now he sounded almost desperate. He shut his eyes and eased Bellatrix off of his lap. She wondered why he didn't want to finish, why he didn't demand that she take his cock out and attend to it. But he just stood slowly from his chair and cleared his throat, and he looked a bit woozy as he said,

"I want you to go home to your husband and show him your neck. You're covered in my marks."

"Well. There are few things in this world I like better than your marks, Master." Bellatrix peeled back the left sleeve of her tunic and revealed her pink, dormant Dark Mark. He smirked at her and said,

"Get yourself a flat as soon as possible. Not just because I want a private space, but because you should be sleeping somewhere comfortable."

"I'll take care of it tomorrow, My Lord," Bellatrix promised. He reached for her face and brushed a knuckle over her cheekbone, and he said quietly,

"I'll let Avery and Yaxley know that I'll be at that wedding. Or shall I surprise them?"

Bellatrix grinned, feeling her face go warm. "Oh, it's wicked, isn't it? But it would be so marvelous if you just sort of… showed up."

His smirk grew, and he tipped his head. "I'll think on it. In the meantime, say nothing to anyone about it."

"Yes, Master." Bellatrix bowed her head. She felt him tip up her chin, and his lips touched hers for a moment, and then he said,

"It is a silly thing, I think, to deny oneself unnecessarily. Let's get you out to the Apparition Point."

**Author's Note: Whew! So they're getting serious. And Voldemort is **_**possessive**_**, to say the least. What's going to happen with this apartment? What's going to happen with the wedding (will Voldemort show up and surprise everybody?) - I promise the next few chapters will be fun. Thank you so very much for reading. Please do review if you get a moment.**


	6. Arlo and Elodie and Holly and Rodolphus

"Rookwood," Voldemort said sharply, looking around at the Ministry employees he'd gathered for a small meeting, "I want you to get me records."

"Of course, Master." Rookwood bowed his head. "Which records did you have in mind?"

The others in the meeting room were all working at the Ministry of Magic, having infiltrated departments to obtain information or spy or otherwise help Voldemort from within. This meeting was exclusively for Ministry Death Eaters. Voldemort cleared his throat and told Rookwood,

"I want you to obtain dossiers on all seven of Dumbledore's allies we know to be working in the Ministry at the moment. You've given me a list of their names. I want all the information about them that we can possibly have. I realise that the listed addresses in the Ministry files might not be where they're hiding right now. But I want wand information, family data, et cetera. Knowledge is power, especially in this instance. Get me as much information about Dumbledore's friends as we can possibly have."

"Yes, Master. It may take me a few days in order to surreptitiously get all seven records, but I will get them in full and have them to you as quickly as possible," Rookwood affirmed. Voldemort nodded. He flicked his eyes to the dusty-haired man beside Rookwood.

"Yaxley," he said. "You're busy this weekend."

The others in the room chuckled a little. Yaxley's son Arlo was marrying Elodie Avery this weekend. Yaxley lowered his eyes and said quietly,

"My Lord knows that I serve you always. If I need to miss the wedding for any reason -"

"No. Of course not. But I want you to start a new project for me on Monday," Voldemort said. "I want a list of every Mudblood currently employed by the Ministry of Magic. I realise it's no small feat to get such a list, but I have confidence you'll figure out a way to do it."

Yaxley looked intimidated, but he nodded quickly and whispered, "Yes, My Lord. Of course."

"I mean to have Bellatrix spot treat them," Voldemort said lightly, tipping his chin up. "She is so good with Killing Curses; you've all seen her. I plan on sending her to a few of their homes for targeted assassinations. So get me names and addresses of Mudbloods, Yaxley."

"Yes, sir." Yaxley nodded again. Voldemort cast his eyes round the room again and shrugged.

"Enjoy yourselves this weekend, but be careful. Ward up Yaxley Castle tighter than a… well, you know. Wouldn't want an ambush. Go. Dismissed."

He watched as his Ministry soldiers rose to their feet and bowed before filing out of the room. Rodolphus Lestrange was the last to go, and as he walked toward the door, it occurred to Voldemort how very young the boy was. His face was so youthful, his eyes bright and shining. Voldemort cleared his throat roughly and called,

"Rodolphus. Stay."

Rodolphus whirled round and appeared to gulp. Voldemort aimed his wand at the door to shut it, and he slowly stood from his chair. He walked over to where Rodolphus stood, and he loomed over the boy. He sniffed a little and said,

"I reckon you'll have Holly Thorpe over every damned day now that Bellatrix is moving out."

Rodolphus' mouth fell open. He blinked and said,

"She, erm… I was not expecting her to announce that she was getting herself a flat, Master. Of course, I promised her that I would change things if she would stay. I promised to make her life more comfortable if she - _agh__!_"

Rodolphus shut up then, for Voldemort had crashed into his mind with nonverbal Legilimency. He yanked forth the memory of Rodolphus and Bellatrix discussing the matter. The two of them were in the parlour of the London townhouse. Rodolphus was pacing anxiously, and Bellatrix was standing with her arms crossed.

'_You and I were married with the Ancient Rites,' Rodolphus was saying, 'We are bound together forever, no matter what.'_

'_But the law clearly states that an egregious offence allows for separation,' Bellatrix said, 'and I should think that repeatedly fucking Holly in our bed qualifies as an egregious offence. I'm not asking for much money, Dolph. Just enough for a little studio flat in some grungy neighbourhood. I don't need anything -'_

'_You think your mother and father would let me go on living, knowing you were in some rubbish flat in some dangerous part of town?' Rodolphus scoffed. He shook his head. 'Obviously, it'll have to be me who moves out. We haven't got the money for two nice homes, and your family would murder me if you were living in a hovel. That's __to say_ _nothing of him.'_

'_I don't suppose he much cares whether my flat is nice or not,' Bellatrix mumbled, and again Rodolphus coughed in disbelief._

'_No? You'll have to keep the townhouse, Bella. Vanish the bed in the bedroom and buy a new one. That we can afford. Or keep sleeping in the guest room. I'll leave. But you can't go running off to some tiny, dirty flat.'_

'_And you're willing to?' Bellatrix's eyes welled heavily. 'Just to keep seeing her? To keep seeing Holly, you're willing to leave and go live in a tiny, ugly flat in a bad part of town? Really?'_

'_Bella…' Rodolphus walked right up to Bellatrix and took her face in his hands. Bellatrix flinched under his touch, but he stared into her wide dark eyes and whispered, 'I am in love with Holly.'_

'_You're…' Bellatrix blinked. A single tear wormed its way from her eye and trailed down her cheek. She pried Rodolphus' hands from her face and slapped him as hard as she could. Rodolphus' cheek stung like fire from the slap, and he touched at his cheek. Bellatrix sniffed and whirled away. She stomped off and declared loudly,_

'_Well, you ought to pack your things and go then. So that you and Holly can start your new life together in whatever filthy flat we can afford.'_

Voldemort pulled out of Rodolphus' head and glared at the dizzy, stumbling wizard. Rodolphus looked terribly embarrassed as he straightened his robes and bowed his head.

"So, she'll be keeping the townhouse," Voldemort said quietly. "And the House-Elf."

"Yes, Master," Rodolphus confirmed. "I met with Hamish and Hamish and found a place in Dagenham. Just a… a rented room with a shared bathroom. It's in a wizarding boarding house."

"And what do Rudy and Penelope Lestrange think of their son moving out of his home and into a rented room in Dagenham?" asked Voldemort lightly. Rodolphus licked his lip.

"We, erm… we haven't told either family yet. About what's happened. I suppose they'll have to know about the separation."

"I'll bet it will be very obvious this weekend. You and Holly at the wedding together," Voldemort said. He tipped his head, and Rodolphus gnawed his lip.

"I wasn't planning on speaking with her there, Master," he said. "I was planning on dancing with Bellatrix. Giving her all of my attention."

"Do you really think she wants your attention right now?" Voldemort narrowed his eyes at Rodolphus. "You young fool. Get out of this room; your presence annoys me."

Rodolphus nodded and bowed, and then he hurried out of the room.

* * *

Lord Voldemort walked through the defences surrounding Yaxley Castle as though the wards and spells were comprised of air. He was, after all, the Dark Lord, and any enemy-repelling incantations would have to admit him. He strode across the front lawn of the castle and heard the bustle and laughter of the party around the back. Yaxley Castle was generously sized inside, but the wedding between Elodie Avery and Arlo Yaxley was taking place in an enormous tent, owing to the fine weather.

Voldemort walked around the outside of the castle and approached the huge tent set up in the back. There was a small clump of people chatting with glasses of wine in their hands, and it seemed to take them a moment to realise just who was passing by them. When at last the witches and wizards saw that Lord Voldemort was strolling past, they gasped and dipped into bows and curtsies. Voldemort nodded. He knew he looked his best tonight, in full tuxedo robes. He wondered, distantly, what Bellatrix was wearing.

He entered the tent to find that the wedding guests were seated at round tables, dining on what appeared to be prime rib, haricots verts, and roast potato. For a moment, nobody noticed Voldemort. But then he found Bellatrix, sitting next to Rodolphus at a table with her parents, Narcissa Black, and the Malfoys. She glanced up, her eyes locking with his, and a little smile crossed her face.

"The Dark Lord!" someone finally exclaimed. Voldemort snapped his attention to rights, and he cleared his throat as everyone in the room panicked. People flew from their chairs, everyone standing and bowing heads, dipping in their dresses. Voldemort held up a hand as the tent went silent. He looked up to the head table, where Elodie and Arlo Yaxley were seated. Beside Arlo Yaxley was a boy Voldemort recognised as Maximus Malfoy. Beside Elodie was the blonde witch whom Voldemort now loathed beyond measure - Holly Thorpe. Voldemort coughed a little and called out,

"Elodie and Arlo. Even in the midst of a war, how could I possibly neglect to celebrate your joy? The two of you, Purebloods and representatives of the magical community, are now joined together in a union of love and commitment. I trust that you will honour one another truly. Be always faithful. Be _always_ faithful. Congratulations."

People applauded raucously then. Holly Thorpe looked absolutely terrified, as though she had never expected to actually lay eyes on Lord Voldemort. He half expected her to whip out her wand and throw a Killing Curse at him, though of course he'd be one step ahead of her. Voldemort took a step into the tent and was immediately socked with attention from all sides.

Yaxley and his wife guided him up to the head table, to a seat next to Holly Thorpe, and they ordered a plate of food for him. Voldemort smirked as he sat down, for Holly scooted her chair away from him in fear. She set down her fork and knife and knit her hands together on her lap.

"I don't bite," Voldemort said, cutting into his prime rib. Holly said nothing. Voldemort sniffed and drank some wine. "You know, not all Half-Bloods are bad."

"Oh. Thanks." Holly glanced down to Rodolphus, who was staring up at the head table. Bellatrix was eyeing them, too. Voldemort locked his eyes onto hers and took another sip of wine, and then he murmured to Holly,

"That stupid boy is in love with you."

"I don't think so," Holly muttered.

"He is. He told his wife that he is," Voldemort said. He set down his glass of wine and looked at Holly. "And, do you know, _that_ is why I dislike you so very much, Miss Thorpe. I'm not hungry."

He rose from his chair, and the others at the head table aside from Holly flew to their feet. Voldemort stalked down from the head table and walked over to the table where Bellatrix was sitting with Rodolphus. She appeared to have finished eating, so he approached her and held out his hand to her. She looked confused, until he asked simply,

"Come for a walk with me?"

"Master." Bellatrix rose, taking his hand. Druella and Cygnus Black, as well as Narcissa and the Malfoys, looked shocked. But Rodolphus just seemed resigned. He swigged at his wine as Voldemort led Bellatrix away. He held her hand as he led her out of the tent, and people stared. Once they were out on the lawn, Voldemort realised he didn't want to release Bellatrix's hand, so he didn't.

"It must be difficult for you, having her here," he said. "It is difficult for _me_, and I am hardly involved."

"Why is difficult for you, My Lord?" Bellatrix asked. Voldemort huffed a breath and stopped walking, pulling Bellatrix close to him and bending down to brush his lips against hers.

"Because," he murmured, "I don't like the way they hurt you. You are my soldier, my servant, and I do not like you harmed."

"Oh." Bellatrix nodded up at him, shutting her eyes. From inside the tent, they could hear music then, and the Amplified voice of someone announcing that Elodie and Arlo were having their first dance.

"She didn't know," Voldemort said. "She had no idea that he's in love with her. I told her."

Bellatrix frowned. "Why did you tell her, My Lord?"

"Why should he get his way all the time?" Voldemort snapped. "Why should he have a beautiful wife and a lovely home and a mistress who thinks it's all just a game? Hmm? Why should Rodolphus have everything he wants like that?"

Bellatrix said nothing at first, but then she said, "He moved the last of his things out this morning. I Vanished the old bedroom furniture, and the new set was delivered at noon today. The townhouse is just me now."

"Is it?" Voldemort brushed his thumb over her lip and kissed her forehead. "They're opening up the dance floor. Let's go dance."

He took her hand again and led her back toward the tent. Inside, people were starting to file out onto the dance floor, and Voldemort guided Bellatrix into a tight dancing stance on the parquet flooring. Voldemort flicked his eyes beyond Bellatrix to see Rodolphus with a fresh glass of wine, staring at them looking bleary-eyed and tired. Holly Thorpe was still at the head table, overlooking the dance floor, and she seemed terrified. Bellatrix swayed with Voldemort, and he looked into her mind with gentle Legilimency. All she could think was how much she adored him. From the time she'd been a gangly little teenager, she had craved him, longed for him. She had desired him physically. She had been just a little in love with him for quite some time now, she thought. Now her feelings had been augmented by what he was doing. He was rescuing her from humiliation. He was saving her from all the pain and torment Rodolphus was trying to inflict upon her. He was wonderful. He was everything. He was her master, and she was just a little in love with him.

"My Lord," Bellatrix hummed as they danced. He was abruptly horrified by what he'd allowed to come to pass. He licked his lip and said down to her,

"Perhaps this game has gone too far."

She startled then. She frowned up at him and whispered,

"You said there were no more games."

"I know what I said," he snapped sharply. "I… it's…"

Suddenly he stopped dancing, and he cradled her jaw in his hand. He bent and kissed her lips carefully, and he murmured onto her mouth,

"If it's gone too far, I suppose I can not find it in myself to care. So."

"I'll go away," Bellatrix whispered, but he shook his head and held her waist with one hand, pulling her closer.

"No. That is not what I want."

"What _do_ you want?" Bellatrix reached up for his face. Voldemort momentarily considered punishing her for touching him like that in front of everyone, but it felt too good. She stroked his cheek and his hair, and he sucked in air. He kissed her again, and she repeated, "What do you want, Master?"

"You," he said quietly. He stood up and walked away from her, and she was left swooning on the dance floor. He strode past the table with her husband and her family, and they all looked completely awestruck by what had happened between Bellatrix and Voldemort. He smirked. He'd danced with her. He'd kissed her. He'd intimidated Holly Thorpe directly. He'd done what he needed to do here.

He left the party and went back to Malfoy Manor, stripping off his tuxedo robes and putting on comfortable linen trousers with a dark blue linen tunic. He rested for a while, drinking firewhisky until his head spun a little, and then after a while, he decided that the wedding was probably over.

It was pitch black but still warm outside when he knocked on the red door of the townhouse in London. Luckily for him, Bellatrix was home, and she was alone.

**Author's Note: Ha ****-** **poor Holly. Kind of. Right? Thanks so very much for reading. Please do review if you get a quick moment.**


	7. Happiness

Bellatrix sniffled and pushed aside Punky the House-Elf as she approached the door.

"M-My Lord," she said, her voice catching through her tears. "Please. Come in."

He frowned as he walked into the townhouse. Punky shut the door and asked softly,

"Shall I make tea, Madam?"

"Erm… tea, Master?" Bellatrix swiped at her eyes, and Voldemort scowled more deeply than ever as he said.

"No. No tea. You are crying. Why are you crying?"

"It's nothing, My Lord." Bellatrix led him toward the parlour, but he caught her wrist in his hand, and she turned back to him. He stared down at her and narrowed his eyes.

"Either you tell me or I get it out with Legilimency," he said. "What's the matter?"

Bellatrix let out a shaking breath and lowered her gaze.

"It's just… after you left the wedding," she said, "Dolph and Holly started dancing. He was rubbing her back in front of everybody. They were laughing together. Cake was served, and he fed her a bite. My mother was horrified, and she asked me if that's why Dolph has moved out of the house. I was so humiliated. He was being so very obvious with her. He was trying to make a point, I realise. Well. He made his point."

Voldemort seethed through clenched teeth, looking very angry. His eyes rimmed red with anger, and he choked out,

"I'll make them pay. Both of them."

"Please, My Lord. I don't want you dragged into my silly marital drama," Bellatrix protested, but he put his hands on her cheeks and declared,

"I am already rather definitively dragged in, Madam Lestrange. I do not like Holly Thorpe. Not one bit. I think it would be better for everyone involved if she no longer existed."

Bellatrix gaped. She stared up at Voldemort and then asked softly, "Do you mean to have me kill her, My Lord?"

"No, not you," he said impatiently. "You're the first one the Ministry would suspect. I'll take care of it myself. I'm going to make Holly Thorpe disappear once and for all. She'll be gone, completely gone, and it will destroy Rodolphus."

What if it just makes him angry?" Bellatrix fretted, but Voldemort shrugged and said,

"Then I shall deal with him, too. Bellatrix, I grow weary of all this petty drama. Only, it isn't so very petty, is it? It's rather ridiculously serious at this point. You've got a husband, and I've got a servant, who is gallivanting off with his whore, and now he's got the audacity to be public with her?"

Bellatrix did not dare suggest that perhaps her being so public with Lord Voldemort had prompted Rodolphus to be public with Holly. Instead, she just pinched her lips and said after a moment,

"I shall be grateful for whatever punishment you dole out to them, Master. Whatever suffering you force them to endure, I shall appreciate. Perhaps that sounds like a terrible thing to say about one's own husband. I can't care anymore."

"Bellatrix." Voldemort took her face in his hands and looked down into her eyes. He was so handsome, she thought, even with the pale scars criss-crossing his face. She studied his cheeks, his eyes, his lips, and she wanted him, very badly indeed. She smelled firewhisky on him and realised he'd been drinking before he'd come here. He'd done a good job of hiding that until right now, but now she could see that he was swaying just a little. He murmured,

"You said you had new furniture delivered today. I'd like to see it."

"Yes, Master. Of course," Bellatrix hummed. She led him over to the stairs, her stomach twisting with anticipation. She breathed quickly as she climbed the stairs, and then she heard a great clattering behind her. She whirled round to see that Voldemort had tripped a little. He righted himself and stared up at her with red cheeks. He shook his head and laughed a little.

"Don't mind me; I'm drunk," he said. Bellatrix smirked a bit, unable to help herself, and waited for him to climb the stairs with her. At the landing at the top, she froze. She stared into the master bedroom and remembered the day she'd come home and found Rodolphus and Holly together. Holly had been riding Rodolphus, and it occurred to Bellatrix that she'd never had sex like that with her husband. Everything between Rodolphus and Bellatrix had been bland and matter-of-fact. Nothing had ever been the slightest bit alluring or sensual. Now Bellatrix stepped into the bedroom and felt very glad that the old furniture was gone. In its place was a set of steady mahogany pieces. An elegant deep blue comforter was on the bed. Bellatrix turned slowly to face Voldemort, and she knew what he was thinking. This was the room, new furniture or not, where Bellatrix had uncovered Rodolphus' betrayal.

"It doesn't matter to me," Bellatrix insisted. "What he did doesn't really hurt. Because if he'd never cheated on me, you never would have kissed me, Master. So."

"I would have. Eventually," Voldemort said. His teeth dragged over his bottom lip, and Bellatrix took a moment to eye the clothes in which he'd come. He usually wore such extravagant robes, but he'd come here in a linen tunic and simple linen trousers. It made her shiver, seeing him like that, knowing what he'd come for. He had not come for tea.

"Bellatrix, you are a good and loyal servant," Lord Voldemort was saying, "and your body pleases me. I find that _you_ please me. I will kill Holly Thorpe, and it will make both of us feel better when I do."

"How will you know where to find her, My Lord?" Bellatrix asked, and Voldemort tipped his head.

"I've got a file with her address. Of course, she has flatmates. And, of course, she spends most of her time with Rodolphus. But don't you worry; I'll get her alone, and I'll make her disappear. I'm quite good at this."

"I'm sure you are," Bellatrix nodded. "You're quite good at a lot of things."

He took a step toward her and threaded his arms around her shoulders. "You have worshipped me for years, Bellatrix."

"Yes, Master," she nodded, shutting her eyes.

"Worship me now," he whispered. "Here in this room."

Suddenly his hands were all over her. He was tugging at the hem of her dress, pulling it up and over her head. Bellatrix gasped at how insistently he pulled off her dress, and she felt very bare once the dress had been tossed aside. She wore no bra, only black knickers, and she struggled not to cover her breasts with her arms. Voldemort grunted and squeezed at one of her breasts with his large hand, dragging his thumb over her peaked nipple and putting his other hand to her waist. He stroked at her for a moment and then kissed her forehead, and he said quietly,

"How very beautiful you are."

"Master." Bellatrix tipped her head back and shut her eyes, and she was caught up in a kiss at once. She felt herself being pulled tightly against Voldemort's body, and she frantically untoggled his tunic and worked it up. He wriggled out of it, breaking their kiss so he could throw it to the side. His chest was lean and tones, and his arms were tight and muscled. Bellatrix moaned as she stroked him, touching his arms and feeling rippling muscle beneath her fingertips. Her chest heaved as she touched the lightly hairy part of his stomach. He seemed to enjoy her caresses, and he let his head loll a little as she rubbed him. Then she saw the outline of his hardening cock in his trousers, and she turned her attention there.

Bellatrix stroked at his erection through the linen, and Voldemort wrenched at her breast again. She pushed at the waistband of his trousers, and as he stepped out of them, she marveled at his cock. He was larger than Rodolphus, though he still seemed like an ordinary man. Somehow, his cock was sexy and attractive where Rodolphus' had always been somewhat repulsive.

Bellatrix shoved down her own knickers, and they joined the pile of clothes on the ground. Voldemort crushed her mouth with another kiss, and now she was free to use her hand to stroke his length. She felt his fingers pad between her legs, moving around her slick and massaging her clit as though he genuinely knew what he was doing. She wondered, fleetingly, how many witches he'd had in his life, and then quickly realised it was none of her business.

He began backing her up toward the bed, and Bellatrix landed on her back with an _oof_. She and Voldemort broke their kiss, and she felt his hand go to her lower abdomen. He incanted a contraceptive charm, which she of course appreciated despite the fact that she was already on a long-acting potion. She scrambled up to recline on her back against the pillows, and he stared down at her quizzically.

"Is that really how you want it?" he asked, and she frowned. What did he mean? Was this how she wanted it? How else would she want it? He cleared his throat and clarified, "Perhaps you might like to ride me."

"Oh." Bellatrix felt her cheeks go warm. She knew why he was suggesting that. He'd seen the memory, in Rodolphus' mind, of the day Bellatrix had caught her husband and his whore. Perhaps she wanted something more than the dull missionary sex she'd had with Rodolphus for the past two years. Perhaps she, too, could ride a man. Voldemort lay on his back on the the other side of the bed, stroking at his cock, and he encouraged Bellatrix,

"Climb on."

She did her best to obey, tossing one leg onto the other side of his hips and aiming his cock at her entrance. She sank down and felt him fill her, and she hissed at how good it felt. She started to bob up and down, but she was clumsy, unpractised, and she needed help. Voldemort began to guide her movements by holding her hips, and as she stared into his eyes, he murmured,

"This feels good and right."

"Does it?" Bellatrix nodded. "I think it does."

He said nothing then; he just tipped his head back and rolled her hips forward over and over again. His mouth dropped open, and she could tell he was enjoying this. Well, so was she. She was enjoying it so well that she could feel herself on the verge of a climax; he was rubbing her in all the right ways. After another minute or so of the rocking and swaying, Bellatrix moaned a little and whispered,

"I'm going to come."

"Mmmph. Yes." Voldemort reached up and fiddled with her clit. He played with her nub, sliding his thumb around and pressing down as Bellatrix arched her back. His free hand clutched at her breast and squeezed hard. She cried out then, losing herself to the feel of overwhelming pleasure. Her nipple hardened so intensely in Voldemort's hand that it almost hurt. Her walls clenched and convulsed. Her body stilled in its motions, and her thighs quivered. She keened with satisfaction, and Voldemort let out a loud grunt.

Suddenly she was being tossed onto the bed, and Voldemort was behind her. Bellatrix burrowed her face against a pillow as her hips were tipped up and back. She felt him push into her, and then she felt him thrust in over and over again. He barrelled against her cervix with deep, intense pistoning motions. Bellatrix yelped and gripped the pillow, but it felt so, so good. She nearly screamed when he pushed in so hard that her head smacked the headboard. Then his hips went still and his fingers trailed up and down her back, and she heard his breath hitch. He was coming, she knew. She felt warm fluid leak down the inside of her thigh, and then he bent down and whispered into her ear,

"This is your home, and you will be made happy here."

"Oh." Bellatrix's eyes watered heavily at that. She rolled over slowly when he pulled himself out of her. He hovered over her body, propping himself up on his arms, and he shut his eyes.

"I really am drunk," he announced. Bellatrix laughed just a little and said,

"You do such a good job of hiding it, Master."

"Easy to Splinch when you're drunk," Voldemort mused, and for a half second of shock, Bellatrix though he was going to suggest that he stay the night at her house. But he sighed and crawled off of her bed, and he told her, "I'll have Holly Thorpe dead soon. We've loads on the docket at the moment. Like all of Dumbledore's friends we've got to take out."

"I understand, My Lord. This is very low priority." Bellatrix nodded, but as Voldemort pulled on his clothes, he huffed,

"On the contrary, Bellatrix, you have become rather alarmingly high priority as of late."

He picked up his wand, and Bellatrix hustled off the bed and got herself into a nightgown and some clean knickers. She Banished her dress to the laundry and said to Voldemort,

"I'll walk you downstairs, Master."

"I can see myself out," he said, though he was almost warm in how he said it. He tucked Bellatrix's hair behind her ear and whispered, "You are mine. To the blood that runs in your veins, you are mine. Aren't you?"

"Yes, Master. I am yours," Bellatrix affirmed.

"You adore me," he supposed. "You have been practically obsessed with me for years. The slightest look, any touch from me has sent your mind whirling for ages."

"It's true, My Lord," Bellatrix nodded. Voldemort licked his lip and continued,

"You are my bravest soldier. My most loyal soldier. And you deserve far better than Rodolphus Lestrange. You deserve better than Holly Thorpe. I will give you what you deserve. Do you understand?"

She didn't. Not really. She just blinked at him and shrugged, her lips parting. Voldemort held her jaw in his hand and bent down to kiss her lips. She smelled firewhisky on him and wondered how much of all this talk was because he was a little drunk. But she couldn't much care when he said,

"You, my bravest, most wicked, and most loyal soldier, deserve happiness. And I will give you that happiness. All right?"

Bellatrix felt breathless for a moment, but she finally whispered back, "All right, My Lord."

"Goodnight," he said, and he released her, turning to walk away and padding down the stairs. This time, he did not fall.

**Author's Note: Apologies for the delay in updating. Thanks for your patience! Please do leave a quick review if you get a moment; I really value the feedback.**


	8. Stairs

"My Lord. Thank you so much for meeting with us today," said Nott, and from beside him, Mulciber and Selwyn nodded their gratitude. All three of them had been part of Tom Riddle's gang at Hogwarts, but now they were men in their mid-forties, bearing all the signs of age. Mulciber had gone entirely grey and had become rather plump. Nott, on the other hand, was skeletal in appearance, with sunken cheeks and wrinkled skin. His hairline had beaten a swift retreat up his head. As for Selwyn, he had a sparse beard flecked with white, and the black-framed glasses he wore took up half his face. Voldemort chewed his lip a little where he sat at the head of the meeting table, wondering if he looked as old as these old 'friends' looked. Did Bellatrix find him old, he wondered?

"Master," said Selwyn, pushing forth a leather folio, "We have for you the names, biographical information, and - most importantly - suspected locations of six of Albus Dumbledore's followers. Peony Macmillan, Archibald Angler, Violetta Browne, Miguel Caspada, Juan Caspada, and Marna Beckwith."

Voldemort pinched his lips and nodded. "Very good. Six is a good number, if we're certain. We can attack them in squads. I'll put two on each. Are the Caspada brothers together?"

"Yes, My Lord. We believe they are. And we think that Violetta Browne is with Peony Macmillan." Mulciber folded his hands on the table. Voldemort cleared his throat and nodded.

"Right. So, take note of this, Selwyn. I want dossiers prepared and delivered to the hit squads. Everyone knows this is coming; they're just waiting on names and addresses. Yaxley and Malfoy will take out Archibald Angler. Rookwood, Mulciber, Rodolphus Lestrange, and Rabastan Lestrange will take out Peony Macmillan and Violetta Browne."

He waited for Selwyn to write all of this information down on his parchment. Voldemort tapped his fingers on the table and said quietly,

"Nott and Selwyn, you'll work with Crabbe and Goyle to take out the Caspada brothers. And I will go with Bellatrix Lestrange to take out Marna Beckwith. She's given us trouble on her own before; I'll see to her myself. Well. Bellatrix will see to her, but I'll help. You get the picture. On all the dossiers, make it clear that this attack it to happen at nightfall on Friday. Leave the Dark Mark in the sky."

He paused, frowning, and he said,

"Actually, erm, take Rodolphus Lestrange out. Put Rowle in his place."

Selwyn hesitated with his quill over the parchment. His brows knitted. "Rowle, Master?"

"Yes, Rowle," snapped Voldemort. "Are you questioning me?"  
"N-No. No, My Lord." Selwyn pinched his lips and scratched out Rodolphus Lestrange's name, writing in Rowle's name instead. Voldemort gnawed hard on his lip and thought to himself that Rodolphus was going to be rather preoccupied by Friday.

* * *

Voldemort stood outside the ugly brown brick building in Shoreditch, the building where Holly Thorpe shared a flat with two flatmates. He sniffed lightly and clutched the envelope he'd brought. He had Transfigured his features, and so now he appeared as a man in his thirties with dusty blond hair and a long, straight nose. He walked into the apartment building and encountered a flight of stairs. They were a hideous dark orange carpet, threadbare and dirty. As Voldemort climbed the stairs, they creaked beneath his low boots. He had dressed like a Muggle, wearing denims and a collared blue shirt. He gulped and felt his wand press against his chest; it was tucked into the waistband of his denims.

He stepped up to Flat 2C and steadied himself, taking a deep breath. He knocked four times on the door of the flat, holding the envelope in his left hand. He cleared his throat as he listened to a bustle of activity inside the flat. Someone turned down the volume on a radio of some kind, and then a voice called,

"Lorene, will you get that?"

"Yeah! Got it!" called a young woman's voice. The door opened, and Voldemort found himself face-to-face with a short woman whose auburn hair was parted down the middle. She stared up at him, her eyebrows going up, and she asked, "Can I help you?"

"Is Holly in? I've got a message for her." Voldemort held up the envelope. The red-haired woman made a move for the envelope, but Voldemort shook his head and said, "It concerns her parents. I'd like to speak with Miss Thorpe directly, if I may."

"Oh. Her parents… everything all right? Erm, Holly! Holly, someone's here to see you!"

The blonde witch who had caused Bellatrix so much worry and strife appeared out of a bedroom door, and Voldemort instantly cast a nonverbal, wandless Confundus Charm upon her. She would be very convinced that the right thing to do was to speak privately with this messenger man, preferably in the corridor. She vibrated where she stood and then came walking quickly toward Voldemort.

"Holly," said the red-haired woman, "this man says he's got a message for you from your parents. Or about them. I hope everything's all right."

"May we speak privately, Miss Thorpe?" Voldemort suggested, and Holly's lips parted as she nodded.

"Yes, of course. Lorene, I'm going to take this conversation to the corridor. I'll be back soon. No worries. I'm sure everything's fine."

"You want me to come with you?" asked Lorene, pushing her red hair behind her shoulders and seeming concerned. But Holly shook her head and insisted,

"No. Really. Thanks." She stepped out over the threshold and pulled the door shut. She gestured toward the stairs and suggested, "If this is big news, I think I'd like to be sitting down. Perhaps we could go to the lobby downstairs."

"Yes. Quite so." Voldemort walked down the stairs with Holly, smirking to himself. He thought of Bellatrix and of Rodolphus. He thought of the way Rodolphus had put his hands all over Holly at the recent wedding, causing Bellatrix all manner of humiliation. He thought of the way Holly had caused Bellatrix's marriage to splinter. And then he reached into the unbuttoned collar of his shirt, pulled the tip of his wand, adjusted his hold, and aimed the wand at Holly Thorpe's back.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_ he incanted. There was a vibrant green flash of light, and then Holly went crashing down the stairs and crumpled on the landing halfway down. She lay face-down and lifeless on the ugly orange carpet, her blonde hair splayed around her. For a moment, Voldemort considered Vanishing her body. But then he realised that he didn't want her to have disappeared. That would give Rodolphus hope that she might have been taken captive, that she might be found. No. What needed to happen was that Lorene, the red-haired woman upstairs, needed to come checking on Holly after a time, and she needed to find Holly like this - dead in the stairwell.

Voldemort stepped neatly around Holly and examined her body for just one more moment. He noticed that she had on awfully high platform shoes, that her sparkly skirt was terribly short. She was dressed to impress. She'd been in her bedroom when Voldemort had arrived. She'd been getting ready to see Rodolphus, he thought. Almost certainly, Rodolphus would learn of this death tonight. And, almost certainly, Rodolphus would know who was responsible. How Rodolphus chose to react would shape whether he lived or died himself.

Voldemort Disapparated in silence from the stairwell, coming to outside the townhouse in London that Bellatrix had taken in the separation. He marched up to the scarlet door and knocked firmly. This was the second door he'd knocked on this evening. But at this residence, he had no violence planned. The door opened, and Punky the House-Elf stepped aside, beckoning Voldemort in.

"Welcome, sir," wheezed the Elf. Voldemort frowned, for the house seemed quiet.

"Where is Madam Lestrange?" he asked.

"She is in the shower, sir," said Punky, with absolutely no embarrassment. "Will you have tea whilst you wait for her?"

"Oh. Erm… yes. Tea. And if you'll tell her - once she's finished with her shower - that I am here, please." Voldemort looked up the stairs, hearing now the distant rush of water from the shower. He chomped his lip at the thought of Bellatrix naked, with water rushing around her body. He shut his eyes and tried to stave off the powerful sensation of want that had come over him. He was a fool for her, he thought. She was just his servant. Just his slave. But she made him feel strange things.

Voldemort got arranged in the parlour, sitting on the same divan where he'd sat to lecture Rodolphus when Bellatrix had been out shopping. Now, once again, Punky presented him with a cup of tea, and he nodded. He sipped from it as the House-Elf skittered away, up the stairs, and after a few minutes, Voldemort heard Punky's voice murmuring something to Bellatrix. He heard a little yelp, and then more low utterings. Punky suddenly appeared out of thin air beside Voldemort, and the Elf asked,

"May Punky get you anything to eat, sir?"

Voldemort curled up half his mouth. Bellatrix was being a good hostess, even whilst she made herself presentable. He shook his head and insisted,

"I already ate. I'll just wait here for your mistress."

"Yes, sir." Punky disappeared again. Voldemort licked his lip and set down his tea, twirling his wand between his fingers and smirking to himself as he contemplated just what he had done. He remembered dancing with Bellatrix at the wedding, and suddenly he wished he'd done more of that. He wished he'd danced with her all night; he wished he'd tasted cake frosting on her lips in front of everybody. He spun his wand and shut his eyes, wanting Bellatrix badly, and then he heard her voice say,

"My Lord, I do apologise. I was… erm…"

"Shower. Yes." He opened his eyes and smiled a little at her, and then his smile disappeared. She hadn't gotten dressed. Not really. She'd put on a skimpy black satin nightgown that didn't even reach her knees. It was late evening, but… Voldemort had not been expecting her to come downstairs in _that_. He just stared for a moment, and her cheeks went very dark pink.

"I'll go change," she said hurriedly. "So sorry."

"No." Voldemort rose, his tea forgotten. He walked over to where she stood, and he put his hands on her waist. He slid them up her rib cage, and he bent down to kiss her carefully. She leaned against him, sighing into the kiss and reaching up to cradle his jaws in her hands. He liked that. He liked when she touched him like that. He kissed her harder, and when she moaned a little, he remembered why he was here. He pulled back and touched his forehead to hers, whispering,

"Holly Thorpe is dead. I killed her not an hour ago. Her flatmates will find her facedown in a stairwell. Rodolphus will know quite soon, I'm sure."

"Master," Bellatrix breathed. Her hands tightened on his face, so much that it almost hurt, and her eyes welled until they boiled over. She nodded, her lips trembling and her cheeks blotching red. She sniffed, and her voice was thick as she said, "I can't believe… it's over. She's gone. That wretched woman. That awful wench. She's… she's gone. And it's all thanks to you. How could I ever repay you?"

"Repay me?" Voldemort tucked her hair behind her ear and shrugged. "Just serve me, Bellatrix, and all debts are paid."

Suddenly the front door crashed open, and Rodolphus Lestrange came barrelling into the house. He slammed the door shut and leaned against it, pounding his fists onto it and shrieking as if in terror. He fell to his knees and bellowed,

"Bellatrix! You hideous bitch! I know what you've done! You can't hide from me! You fucking -"

"Dolph." Bellatrix said his name firmly, swiping at her eyes. Voldemort aimed his wand at Rodolphus, who whirled quickly away from the door and toward the sound of Bellatrix's voice. But the second he was on his feet, he was staggering backward, his eyes wide at the sight of Voldemort's wand.

"M-My Lord," he stammered, looking terrified.

"Lovely stairwell you've got in this house, Bellatrix," Voldemort said lightly. "It would be a shame if any bodies wound up on it."

Rodolphus narrowed his eyes, realisation coming quickly over him. He bowed his head, dug his teeth into his lip, and nodded.

"I have to go," he mumbled. "Please, My Lord, may I be excused."

"Yes, of course you may," Voldemort said, tipping his head. "So sorry for your loss, Rodolphus."

"Thank you, Master," said Rodolphus, and without another word, he opened the front door and walked out.

**Author's Note: Oh, my. So, Holly's dead. Will Rodolphus stay loyal, or will he become a threat? And how will the strike against Dumbledore's allies go? Thanks as always for reading. Please do review. Thanks!**


	9. Sorry

On Thursday, Bellatrix sat in the parlour of the townhouse, having cooled down the overheated air in the room with a charm. She opened the dossier she'd been given for the upcoming mission to eliminate Dumbledore's allies, readying herself for the idea of taking out Marna Beckwith. She read through the information, giving Marna's biographical profile and known location in a cottage in the Cotswolds. Bellatrix picked up the blank parchment she'd brought into the parlour, along with her self-inking quill, and she jotted down,

_Strike cottage hard and fast at nightfall - Marna will not be open to conversation._

She examined the dossier for any evidence that anyone else would be at the cottage with Marna Beckwith, but as far as Bellatrix could tell, the unmarried, childless witch should be alone. Bellatrix sighed and underlined on her parchment,

_Ambush._

The front door of the townhouse opened slowly, and Bellatrix looked up from her work. Her mouth fell open in surprise as Rodolphus walked into the townhouse, his head hung. He shut the door and spied Bellatrix, and he came walking with careful steps toward the parlour. Bellatrix quickly shoved her parchment into the dossier and shut it, setting the folio on the low table before her. She rose and huffed, taking a step toward Rodolphus.

"What are you doing here, Dolph?" she demanded, and he raised his red-rimmed eyes.

"Her funeral was today," Rodolphus said. "Holly was put into the ground today."

Bellatrix sniffed. "Well. I'm sorry for you, I suppose."

Rodolphus bowed his head again and whispered, "You shouldn't be."

Bellatrix was confused by how genuinely depressed and almost contrite he seemed. A few days earlier, when Holly had died, Rodolphus had been filled with rage. But now he seemed resigned. He stared at the ground and sounded an awful lot like he was crying as he said,

"What I did to you was terrible, Bellatrix. You didn't deserve it. Any of it. You didn't deserve to walk in on Holly and me together. You didn't deserve to have your husband run off on you in the first place. You didn't deserve to be embarrassed at that wedding. And what the Dark Lord did to punish me… I earned it. Every last bit of that punishment, I deserved."

Bellatrix stared at Rodolphus in shock as her husband walked up to her cautiously took her hand in his. She could feel his fingers shaking like mad, and he raised his eyes to hers as he told her,

"One day not so very long ago, the Dark Lord told me that I was very lucky to be married to you. And he was right. He called me a young fool. He was right about that, too."

"He's right about most things, I think," Bellatrix nodded. Rodolphus shut his eyes and took a shaking breath.

"You and I are bound by the Ancient Rites. We can never be divorced," he reminded Bellatrix. "But I mean to be a much better husband to you from now on. I shall care for you. I shall adore you the way you are meant to be adored. Because he's absolutely right. I am very lucky. And I haven't shown it. And I am a young fool."

Twin tears escaped his eyes and wormed their way down his cheeks, and Bellatrix let out a hard breath. She didn't know what to make of this. All she knew was that the quiet in the room was completely stifling just now. Bellatrix walked over to the Wizarding Wireless and flicked it on. There was maudlin music straining through the speaker, and as Bellatrix turned back to Rodolphus, she found the sorrowful music fitting. He was swiping tears from his eyes still, and he mumbled to Bellatrix,

"All I could think of whilst they were burying Holly was what a blithering idiot I'd been to get involved with her in the first place."

"I thought you loved her," Bellatrix said coldly. Rodolphus nodded.

"I did. And that was wrong of me, wasn't it? I was an awful husband, falling in love with someone else. I was derelict of duty to our lord and master, too, I think. Somehow, I'll fix it."

Bellatrix sighed. She chewed her lip and remembered the day she'd walked in on Rodolphus with Holly atop him. He hadn't seemed very sorry then. What had changed? Had it really taken Holly being murdered and Rodolphus' life being threatened for him to turn around? She doubted his change of heart, if she was honest. She frowned at him and reminded him,

"You moved out of our home so you could continue seeing Holly. You fed her cake at the wedding just to humiliate me."

"I was wrong!" Rodolphus yelled. He held his arms up and gripped his hands into fists in desperation. "Please. Bellatrix. I was wrong."

"So I'm meant to just, what? Tell you all's well and that you and I can begin a life of marital bliss?" Bellatrix scoffed. "You're mad."

"Bellatrix." Rodolphus shut his eyes and dragged his fingers through his hair. His voice was lower then as he repeated, "We were married with the Ancient Rites. We are together forever, you and I. We ought to make the best of it that we possibly can. I promise to you, from this day until my last day, I shall be the best husband you could want. I swear it."

Bellatrix gulped. She thought of the Dark Lord in the bed upstairs with her, of him kissing her, and she licked her lip carefully. But Rodolphus was right about one thing, at least. Her marriage had been sealed by spellwork that permanently and tightly knitted Bellatrix and Rodolphus together. At the very least, they could try to live in harmony. Bellatrix cleared her throat, stepped up to Rodolphus, and took his left hand in her right one. He seemed surprised, especially when she put her hand on his shoulder and nodded at him. He seemed to realise that she meant to dance, and he put his hand on her waist.

They began to sway to the emotional music playing on the Wireless, and Bellatrix was suddenly taken back to her wedding day with Rodolphus. Theirs had been an arranged marriage, and though they had had years to get to know one another, they'd been awkward and stilted that day. They were more relaxed now, after two years of cohabitation, even with the stress of infidelity. Bellatrix stared up into Rodolphus' pale blue eyes, and as they swayed, she whispered,

"Why wasn't I enough for you?"

His eyes welled, and he carefully countered, "I'm not enough for you, either, am I?"

Bellatrix shut her eyes and murmured, "He's the Dark Lord, Dolph. He's our master."

"And I'll never complain," Rodolphus said. "And I'll never run off on you again. But you've been in this marriage with me for two years, Bella. I think you know why it didn't feel like enough."

Her stomach twisted, but she nodded. Sex between them had been bland and boring. Dinners had been quiet and dull. Even the holiday they'd taken to Spain had been no fun at all. Of course Dolph had sought relief somewhere else. Of course he had fallen in love. Could Bellatrix actually begrudge him the act of falling in love?

"I'm sorry she's dead," Bellatrix whispered. "I…"

"Bella." Rodolphus stopped dancing and took her face in his hands. He stared down at her and whispered, "Please, can we just start all over?"

"Start over?" Bellatrix repeated, and Rodolphus nodded. He bent down and brushed his lips against Bellatrix's. She sucked in air, surprised, and then her hands flailed when he pushed his mouth harder against hers. His lips pressed firmly to hers, and his hands held fast to her waist. Bellatrix clutched at the front of his robes and arched her back, shocked by the way he was kissing her. When at last Rodolphus pulled back, he moved away a step and murmured,

"He's right. I'm very lucky. I'm a very lucky man."

"Dolph." Bellatrix shut her eyes, feeling more confused than she'd felt in a good long while. She shook her head and whispered, "I don't think you should stay. I think… I think that's enough for today."

"Right."

She opened her eyes to see him dragging his finger over his lip, and he sniffed lightly. "I'll see you soon. I really do want to start all over with you. I promise to do so much better for you this time, Bella. I promise."

"Sorry for what you had to do today," Bellatrix said, and once again Rodolphus' eyes welled. His lips shook as he thought about Holly's funeral, but he shrugged a little and said,

"She was a mistake, Bella. You are my wife. I'll see you soon."

He turned and walked toward the door, his steps slow and solemn, and once he'd gone, Bellatrix was left confused and alone with the Wireless droning on behind her.

* * *

"Are you all right?" Voldemort asked Bellatrix where they stood in the parlour of the townhouse. They'd agreed to meet here, Disapparate to Marna Beckwith's cottage, go in for a quick and efficient attack, and meet back here. It would be over in a flash. Bellatrix nodded, feeling numb.

"Yes, Master," she said dully. "I'm fine."

He scowled. "You are distracted."

She shook her head. "I am ready for the mission."

"Liar," Voldemort hissed. "What is troubling you?"

Bellatrix hesitated, just a moment too long, and Voldemort finally muttered a quick _Legilimens_. Bellatrix felt the crash of his invasion, felt him rifling through her mind, searching for the source of her worry. He quickly yanked forth the memory of Rodolphus coming to the house, explaining that he was sorry about Holly, that he meant to do better. Voldemort watched Bellatrix dance with Rodolphus, saw her husband kiss her, and then he yanked himself out of her head with a _whoosh_. Bellatrix found herself staring up at Voldemort in the parlour, feeling helpless in her mask, and she shook her head.

"I'm not sure what I was meant to do, Master."

"You… he…" Voldemort licked his lip and scoffed gently. "No, it's nothing. I'm the interloper. You two are married, after all."

Bellatrix felt her eyes burn. Was Voldemort going to cut off whatever nonsense had been happening between him and Bellatrix? She didn't know what she would do if he did. It would hurt too badly now. She gulped and whispered,

"I don't want him, Master; I only want you."

"Your husband's mistress has been eliminated, and he has contritely come home to you," Voldemort said tightly. "Now the two of you shall live in wedded bliss. So this is marvelous, really. Hmm?"

Bellatrix sank her teeth into her lip and shut her eyes.

"Let's go to Marna Beckwith's house," Voldemort suggested. "Ready? Three, two, one. Go."

They arrived at the cottage in the pouring rain, and Bellatrix stormed up to the cottage with rage flushing through her veins.

"_Bombarda!_"

She blasted apart the entire front of the cottage and sprinted up to it. She skittered over the pile of rubble she'd created, and she saw Marna Beckwith, rushing through the little house with her wand outstretched.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_ yelled Voldemort from behind Bellatrix. His green Killing Curse went whizzing past Bellatrix and jetted into Marna Beckwith's body. Marna shot back against the plaster wall as rain fell into the cottage. Marna collapsed in death, her wand clattering to the wooden floor.

"_Morsmordre!_" Bellatrix screamed through her mask, and the crisp jade glitter of the Dark Mark rocketed into the night sky, tattooing the darkness.

"Let's go," Voldemort barked. Bellatrix Disapparated, pulling through the pinching black void. She came to in her parlour, and she yanked off her mask. She quickly stalked over to the case where she kept the mask and opened the lid, tucking the mask inside. She shut the lid and sniffed. Ordinarily, after a mission like this, she'd be buzzing with energy. She'd be giggling madly with delight. But tonight, she felt almost nothing.

Suddenly a hand closed around her left wrist, yanking her hard away from the mask case. Bellatrix gasped as Voldemort put his arms around her and bent down, crushing her mouth with his. She collapsed against him, melting against him, both of them wet from the rain in the Cotswolds. She reached up to hold his face, and he tightened his fingers in her hair.

"Be married," he muttered against her lips. "See if I care whether you're married or not. You belong to the Dark Lord. And that will be made quite clear, Madam Lestrange."

Then he kissed her again, and Bellatrix moaned desperately against his lips.

**Author's Note: So it seems like Rodolphus wants to have his cake and eat it, too, in a way, huh? I don't think Voldemort's going to let Rodolphus sweep in and try to seduce Bellatrix now that Holly's dead, do you? How will Voldemort establish his dominance again? Mwah hahaha. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing.**


	10. Once and For All

Voldemort sat at the head of the table in the meeting room at Malfoy Manor, having Summoned all of his Death Eaters to debrief the strikes against Dumbledore's allies the night before. He sat with his hands folded on the table as people slowly filed into the room. His attention pricked up when Bellatrix came walking in, but then he frowned.

Rodolphus Lestrange had his hand between Bellatrix's shoulder blades, and when they reached two empty chairs, Rodolphus pulled out a chair for Bellatrix. She looked uncomfortable with the chivalry, but she sat and bowed her head toward Voldemort in deference. Rodolphus gave a respectful bow before sitting. Voldemort licked his lip and cleared his throat a little. But it only got worse. Rodolphus sat beside Bellatrix and asked her, just loudly enough for Voldemort to hear,

"Perhaps we could go out for dinner tonight, Bella? I've a terrible craving for lamb stew the way they make it at the White Wyvern. We used to go there all the time."

"Erm…" Bellatrix looked a little confused. "Yes, all right, Dolph. Dinner. Certainly."

Voldemort pinched his lips. He tried to say something, to interject that he had a job for Bellatrix to do tonight that would keep her too busy for dinner with Rodolphus. Instead, he just sat there like a fool, watching as Rodolphus picked up Bellatrix's hand and kissed her knuckles carefully. He shut his eyes and held her hand to his lips for a long moment. Voldemort's heart began to race. He felt absolute rage strike him through. He met Bellatrix's eyes, and she flashed him an apologetic look. But all he could think was that she had betrayed him, letting her philandering husband touch her like this, in front of everybody.

"Yaxley. Malfoy," Voldemort snapped, and the room went silent. "Tell me about Archibald Angler."

"He went easily, Master," said Malfoy. "He tried to fight. It was a bit adorable. Pathetic."

The others chuckled. Voldemort flicked his eyes to where Rodolphus Lestrange still held Bellatrix's hand in his. He scowled deeply and barked,

"Peony Macmillan and Violetta Browne? What of them?"

"They, too, tried to fight," said Rookwood, "but, Master, the worst they managed was sending Mulciber into a wall with a charged Knockback Jinx and Stupefying Rabastan Lestrange for a few moments. Both Macmillan and Browne were quickly and easily eliminated."

"The Caspada brothers?" Voldemort stared at Bellatrix, who looked like she wanted to cry as Rodolphus caressed her hand. _Just pull your hand away, _Voldemort thought. _For goodness' sake; pull your hand away!_ But she didn't. She let her husband keep touching her. Voldemort distantly heard Nott say,

"Juan Caspada cast a _Ducklifors _spell that momentarily turned Selwyn into a duck, My Lord, but no real harm done. Both brothers are dead."

Voldemort ripped his eyes away from Bellatrix and Rodolphus and nodded to the group. "Marna Beckwith is dead. Bellatrix and I saw to that. So it seems we took out all of our targets. Now we go quiet and underground for a while. The _Daily Prophet _will write about nothing else for a week solid. The Ministry will scramble frantically. Dumbledore will send out all of his forces after us. No social gatherings. No unnecessary trips to Diagon Alley. Lay low. Understood?"

There were murmurs of _Yes, Master, _ and Voldemort chewed his lip as he nodded.

"Dismissed."

Those in the room rose and started to go. Rodolphus put his hand on Bellatrix's back again, and Voldemort felt anger thrust through his veins. For a brief moment, a vision flashed in his mind. He could see himself with Bellatrix on his knees before her, his cock in her mouth whilst Rodolphus was forced to watch. He could see himself with Bellatrix bent over the table whilst Rodolphus looked on in horror. But instead, Voldemort just called out,

"Rodolphus. Bellatrix."

They whirled around, and in Bellatrix's eyes, he saw pain. Voldemort wanted to scream at her. _Slap him! Move away from him!_ But she let her husband touch her back, so Voldemort just told her,

"You can't eat at the White Wyvern tonight. We're laying low, remember?"

"Oh. Yes, of course, Master. I'll just come to the townhouse for dinner," Rodolphus said cheerfully. "I'm sure Punky can cook up some good lamb stew."

Voldemort squared his jaw and snapped, "I don't care about your fucking lamb stew. Leave. Both of you."

Rodolphus led Bellatrix out of the meeting room, and once they'd gone, Voldemort flew out of his chair, wand in hand. He aimed his wand at the table and broke it with a slash of his wand, sending wood splintering through the air. He screamed in anger, roaring in rage, and he sent a chair soaring through the air and crashing against the wall.

Damn her. If she was going to be like that with him, with her husband, then he was finished.

Many hours later, he was staggering, drunk on firewhisky, on the sidewalk in front of Bellatrix's townhouse. Surely Rodolphus had gone by now. If he was still here, Voldemort was liable to kill him. Voldemort stumbled up the steps and banged on the front door of the townhouse. The red door swung open, and Punky the House-Elf stood before him.

"Madam Bellatrix!" called Punky, "The Dark Lord has come to see you."

"Master!" Bellatrix came rushing out of the parlour. She immediately clutched at Voldemort's robes and pushed herself up on her toes as though she wanted a kiss, but he shoved her so roughly away that she almost fell. She stared up at him, and she said quietly,

"I made him leave after dinner. Dolph. I told him he was taking things too far."

"No. He's not." Voldemort dragged his fingers through his hair. "He embarrassed me at that meeting, touching you like that in front of everyone. And it made me think, Bellatrix, that I have become a stupid fool for you. And I dislike being a fool. He is your husband. I am your master. If Rodolphus wants to fuck your cunny, then -"

"My Lord!" gasped Bellatrix, but he pushed at her shoulder and slurred,

"We're through, you and I. You'll serve me, as my slave, because that is what you are. You are my slave. And nothing more. I'm leaving now, and I'm not coming back here anymore."

"You're going to Splinch this drunk," Bellatrix fretted. "Let me take you back by Side-Along, Master."

"I do not require your assistance!" he bellowed. "Get away from me, you wicked siren!"

Then he Disapparated with an uncharacteristically loud _crack, _Splinching just enough to leave an entire fingernail behind.

* * *

The next several months were spent at the task of war.

Bellatrix worked hard for Lord Voldemort as a soldier, killing Mudbloods skilfully for him whenever he gave her an assignment. She seemed close with Rodolphus; the two of them even walked into meetings holding hands. At first, the nearness of the two of them did not bother Voldemort. He'd completely written off Bellatrix. What he'd done with her - kissing her and touching her, taking her in her bed in the townhouse - had been folly. It had just been a dumb little affair. But after awhile, it began to grate at Voldemort to see Rodolphus holding Bellatrix by the small of her back. He could not help remembering doing that himself. It began to bother Voldemort to see Bellatrix smirk at something Rodolphus whispered in her ear. Their intimacy felt like a slap in the face.

By late November, though, things seemed to have cooled between Rodolphus and Bellatrix. At a meeting to discuss the logistics of the annual Christmas party in a few weeks, Rodolphus came walking in five paces ahead of Bellatrix, who looked like she was going to be sick. The two of them very reluctantly sat next to each other, and Bellatrix glared at Rodolphus. Curious, Voldemort used the time of the others' entrances to peer surreptitiously into Rodolphus' mind.

'_Again? You just can't help yourself, can you?'_

'_Bella. It's nothing personal. You know I adore you.' Rodolphus sipped at his tea. Bellatrix paced the parlour._

'_Adore. But love? Never. You could never love me, not ever. And even Holly getting killed couldn't stop you. Even the Dark Lord throwing me aside couldn't stop you. Who is she? She likes very purple lipstick.'_

_Rodolphus hesitated. 'It's Aphra Travers. It hasn't been going on long. I'll end it.'_

'_Aphra Travers?' Bellatrix scoffed. 'She's married, too. Does her husband know?'_

'_Of course not, and I'd prefer if he didn't. If you please,' Rodolphus said tightly._

_Bellatrix had silent tears running down her cheeks, and she shoved her fingers into her curls as she mumbled,_

'_I just want him back. All I want is my master back.'_

'_Well, we're a pair, aren't we?' Rodolphus sighed._

Voldemort pulled out of Rodolphus' head. Rodolphus stared at him in terror. He knew damned well that his head had just been searched. Beside Rodolphus, Bellatrix sniffed lightly and stared at her lap. Voldemort raised his voice and barked down the table,

"I do not feel like having this meeting today. In fact… I find I do not care to be involved in the logistics of the silly Christmas party. Get security details and guest lists and all that nonsense drawn up into a summary, get me that summary, and do not trouble me further with this. Madam Lestrange, I need you in my office. Now."

Bellatrix looked surprised, but she flew to her feet and followed Voldemort as he stalked out of the meeting room. He walked briskly down the corridor to his office, leaving the door open behind him. Bellatrix came walking into the office after him, quietly shutting the door.

"My Lord," she said reverently. Voldemort whirled on her, looming above her and staring down at her. She shrank back a little, and he licked his lip.

"You have missed me," he guessed, and she nodded.

"Very much, sir."

"We have seen one another," he shrugged. "All the time. In meetings. Here in this office, preparing you for missions. You and I have been face-to-face many times."

She gave him a withering look, and he knew why. It wasn't the same. It wasn't anything the same. Of course it wasn't. Voldemort cleared his throat and said quietly,

"Aphra Travers, now. He can't help himself. He's ridiculous."

"He's a bloody fool for witches, My Lord," Bellatrix nodded. "I don't suppose he would ever fully be satisfied. Certainly not by me."

Voldemort let out a long breath and reached to cup her jaw in his hand. He shut his eyes and whispered,

"I was satisfied by you. I would have been satisfied by you for a very long time, I think."

"My Lord." She reached up to cover his hand with hers, and she sounded like her throat was thick with tears. Voldemort opened his eyes to see that hers had welled heavily. He bent and brushed his lips against hers, then pressed his mouth more firmly against her. Suddenly he wanted her, very badly indeed, and he murmured,

"I am so very sick and tired of playing games, Bellatrix."

"No more games, Master." Bellatrix threaded her arms up around his neck. "Make me yours."

Before he knew what was happening, he was backing her toward the wall, kissing her until his lips felt bruised, and he hummed,

"Once and for all this time."

**Author's Note: Uh-oh. Rodolphus is really in for it now. Any guesses as to how Voldemort's going to handle the situation? Thanks so much for reading and reviewing.**


	11. Torture

"Mum."

"Bellatrix." Druella Black let Punky shut the door behind her, and she dropped her winter cloak on the ground for the House-Elf to pick up. "Thank you for having me for tea. At long, long last. I feel like the last time I saw this house was when you and Rodolphus bought it after your wedding."

"Sorry. We're not the most social of creatures." Bellatrix led her mother into the parlour, where Punky had already set up a tray of two teacups with a little tower of macarons and petits fours. Bellatrix sank into the chair against the wall as Druella sat on the divan. Druella used the silver tongs on the tray to plop a sugar cube into her tea, then poured a bit of milk. She cleared her throat primly as Bellatrix picked up her own tea, and then she asked,

"How go things?"

"Things," Bellatrix repeated, sipping her own tea and staring into the amber liquid. "Things are… well, work is just grand. You know, work is wonderful."

Druella visibly pinched her lips. That was not the answer she'd been looking for. She coughed a little and asked,

"Have you had a gown made for the Christmas party?"

"I'm just going to wear the black satin one I wore two years ago," Bellatrix shrugged. "The long-sleeved one."

Druella looked scandalised. "The one with the neckline that plunges practically to your waist? Bellatrix, I told you two years ago that that dress was for a harlot. And you are no harlot."

"No?" Bellatrix smirked just a little. "Dolph seemed to like that dress just fine, even though he's never really been all that attracted to me."

"Bellatrix!" yelped Druella, but Bellatrix barrelled on,

"I'm sure the gown will be a big hit, Mum. No worries. I'll make myself look nice and pretty. What about you? What are you wearing? What's Cissy wearing?"

"She's got a lovely silver concoction," Druella said, sounding distracted, "and I'm wearing aubergine silk."

"Well, that'll be nice," Bellatrix said, sipping some tea. Druella hesitated, and then she set down her teacup and asked,

"Bellatrix, when are you going to give me a grandchild?"

"What?" Bellatrix blurted, almost spilling her tea. She set the cup down on the tray and snapped, "What the blazes are you on about?"

"I think it is a perfectly reasonable question," Druella said loudly. "You and Rodolphus have been married for over two years now. When can we expect a pregnancy?"

"You can't! Not any time… never, probably!" Bellatrix stumbled over her words, but her mother looked horrified just the same. Bellatrix continued, "Even if I wanted to procreate with Dolph, which, you know, I do _not_… the Dark Lord has absolutely forbidden it."

"Forbidden it? Why would he do a thing like that?" Druella gasped, and Bellatrix snarled,

"Because I am _his_, Mum. I am his soldier. I am his servant. I am his slave. And it's more than that, and I think you know precisely what I'm talking about."

"No! Nobody knows what you're on about when it comes to him!" Druella threw her hands up. "All we know is this, Bellatrix. Rodolphus moved out of this townhouse and was publicly affectionate with the Half-Blood Holly Thorpe. Then Holly died, and goodness knows the circumstances. We've all seen the Dark Lord kiss you and touch you, at parties, at a wedding. What seems obvious to me, Bellatrix, is that you're caught up in some tangled knot of jealousy and infidelity. I want a stop to it."

Bellatrix scoffed loudly. "You want a stop to it, do you?"

"Yes," hissed Druella. "I want you and Rodolphus to put a stop to this ridiculous, immature madness. No more Hollys. No more kissing your master in front of a crowd just to rile up your husband. You both do your duty now, and give me a grandchild."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, woman, is that all you can think about?" Bellatrix whined, flying to her feet and beginning to pace. "Is it all you can concentrate on, Mum? Whether or not I've squeezed out a grandchild for you? I've told you; the Dark Lord has forbidden it!"

"Well, you tell the Dark Lord that you are a married witch bound to your husband by the Ancient Rites." Druella slammed her hand on the arm of the divan. "You tell him that you've an obligation to both your families, to your bloodlines, to produce a child now. You tell him -"

"Tell me yourself, Druella," said a voice, and Bellatrix looked up to see that Voldemort had been granted entry to the townhouse whilst Bellatrix and Druella had been shouting at one another. Bellatrix hadn't even heard him knock; she hadn't noticed Punky opening the door. Now Punky shut the door, and Voldemort came stalking toward the parlour. He flicked his eyes to Druella, who scrambled to her feet, and then looked up at Bellatrix.

"I'll come back," he said. "I did not mean to interrupt."

"N-No, Master. Of course, you are always welcome," Bellatrix shoved her fingers into her thick curls and gulped. She let out a shaking sigh and said, "Mum, you and I will talk soon. I don't want to fight anymore today."

"Very well," Druella said in a tight voice. She dipped into a curtsy and said to Voldemort, "Good day, My Lord."

"Druella." He turned to watch Druella accept her cloak from Punky, and as she pulled it on, Voldemort said to Bellatrix's mother, "She's telling you the truth. I did unequivocally forbid her from bearing Rodolphus a child. And I will not budge on that matter, Druella."

Druella's eyes flashed, but she nodded and said, "As you will, Master. See you at the Malfoy Christmas party, then, sir."

"Hmm. Yes. Quite so." Voldemort waited until Druella had gone, and then he turned back to Bellatrix and gave her a weighty look. He was still wearing his heavy winter cloak, Bellatrix noticed, and she wondered why he did not pull it off. Perhaps, she thought, he did not intend on staying long. His sense of urgency seemed confirmed when he told her in a grave tone,

"I was just visited in my office by a terribly irate Prospero Travers. Prospero, as I'm sure you know, is a wizard two years younger than me. He was a compatriot of mine at Hogwarts; he and I have a long history. He didn't marry until three years ago; everyone thought old Prospero was going to be a womanising bachelor forever. But he fell head over heels in love with the much younger Aphra Selwyn. And, for whatever reason, she agreed to marry him."

"Money, probably," Bellatrix grumbled. Voldemort put his lips into a line and continued,

"Well, Aphra and Prospero Travers were married with the Ancient Rites, just like you and Rodolphus. That means…"

"No divorce," Bellatrix breathed. "Does he know? Has he found out?"

Voldemort licked his lip carefully. "He came to my office stating that he had discovered the smell of an unfamiliar wizard's cologne upon several of Aphra's robes. His curiosity piqued, he grilled her about the matter until she finally, tearfully confessed that she had been cheating with Rodolphus Lestrange."

"Well. She gave up easily," Bellatrix scoffed. Voldemort chewed his lip and said,

"Prospero Travers asked me to kill your husband."

Bellatrix raised her eyebrows. Her mouth fell open, and she let out a choked little noise.

"He literally asked you to… to…"

"Yes. He was in tears," Voldemort sneered. "He explained that both he and you had been victimised by the affair between Rodolphus and Aphra. He said he knew about Rodolphus and Holly - in fact, he said that everyone had known about that. The Ancient Rites, he reminded me, mean that neither his and Aphra's marriage nor yours and Rodolphus' can be dissolved by divorce. And so, Prospero Travers concluded, the only true form of justice remaining is to execute Rodolphus Lestrange as an adulterous… well, as far as I know, adultery isn't grounds for execution, but we aren't necessarily operating within normal legal bounds, so…"

"Are you actually considering this, Master?" Bellatrix felt her eyes go round as the moon, and she whispered, "You're not actually going to kill him just for running off with Aphra and Holly?"

"What, you want me to have mercy on that pathetic boy?" Voldemort asked in disbelief. Bellatrix blinked quickly and said,

"No, it's just… if you start killing your own loyal Death Eaters over things like adultery, that seems… that seems like a slippery slope, Master. No offence intended, but most of your Death Eaters do dirty deeds of all sorts, all the time, and if you start offing them for those things, you're not going to have any Death Eaters left!"

"This is different," Voldemort insisted. "This isn't like Avery being cruel to his cats, or Yaxley being a slight kleptomaniac. This is _your_ husband, cheating on _you_, this time with the wife of another of my Death Eaters, and I… and I… and you're absolutely right, of course."

He went silent then, and he stared down at Bellatrix. She studied his dark eyes, the colour of burned wood. His eyes were so very deep, where Dolph's were so pale. Bellatrix swallowed hard and said to him,

"I only want what's best for you and for your movement, Master. I do not want you carrying out summary executions because an aggrieved husband came crying to you or because you want vengeance on the man who's cheated on me."

Voldemort licked his lip and bowed his head a bit. "I think… I think a Cruciatus Curse."

"Torture," Bellatrix nodded. "Just a little, just enough to punish Dolph, to put fear into him, to force him into amends for what he's done. But that way, you're not executing your own soldiers. You are so wise, Master."

"I would rather like to watch you do it," Voldemort mused, "but I think it would be best if I did it at a meeting, in front of everyone. Public punishment, then offering him full forgiveness."

Bellatrix hesitated. Voldemort scowled, and she said, "Do you not think that might embarrass Prospero Travers? By punishing the man who cheated with his wife? Perhaps, and please correct me if I step too far, but… perhaps you ought to punish him privately in your office, and then demand that he stay loyal, or threaten that the next step is killing him."

Voldemort huffed a loud breath and tossed his arms up. "You're right! Annoyingly right. Blazes. Bellatrix…"

He put his hands on her cheeks and bent down to kiss her lightly.

"Your mother is completely mad, thinking you would spend your time popping out children in the middle of my war."

"She's completely mad if she thinks I am ever getting into bed with Rodolphus again," Bellatrix snarled, and Voldemort kissed her again. He brushed his lips against hers and touched his forehead to hers, and he whispered,

"What are you wearing to that damned Christmas party? Tell me what you're wearing so that I know what I'll be stripping off of you afterwards."

Bellatrix grinned, pushing herself nearer his body. She hummed up against his lips and whispered,

"Black satin. Long sleeves. Plunging neckline."

Voldemort yanked Bellatrix close to him by the small of her back, and he kissed her harder. She held his jaws as he pressed his lips against hers, and she licked at his bottom lip, eliciting a groan. He wrenched his mouth away and finally growled,

"Enough. Enough of this damned winter cloak and all of these stupid clothes. Let's go upstairs. Now."

"Yes, Master," Bellatrix smiled, letting him take her hand and drag her from the parlour.

**Author's Note: Oh, my. So, Rodolphus is going to get tortured and we have a Christmas Party coming up. Anyone feel Possessive Voldemort coming up on both fronts?**

**I will be alternative chapter updates between this story and my new **_**Good Omens**_ **story (**_**A Spirit Glided Past My Face)**_ **but I promise to very regularly update both stories. Thanks for your patience and understanding. Thanks for reading and reviewing.**


	12. Obedient

"Enter," barked Voldemort, and the door to his office slowly opened and then shut. Rodolphus Lestrange came walking into the office, looking very nervous. He appeared to know, at the very least, that he had not been Summoned through his Dark Mark for tea and biscuits.

"Come," Voldemort beckoned, gesturing to the armchair in front of the fireplace. Rodolphus paused and bowed, low and reverent, and then moved to sit in the chair. He folded his hands in his lap, and when he did, Voldemort could see that they were shaking terribly. He sniffed a little and pulled out his wand, dragging the fingers of his left hand down its length and sighing.

"Rodolphus," he said finally, "what am I do to with you?"

"What are you… to do with me, Master?" Rodolphus repeated. He looked quite anxious now, and Voldemort paced before the chair, his steps slow and deliberate.

"I killed Holly Thorpe because you needed to be controlled. After all, you had proven quite evidently that you were incapable of controlling yourself," Voldemort mused. Rodolphus wisely said nothing to that. His pale blue eyes searched Voldemort's, but Voldemort looked down at his own wand and said, "Even once you got things back on track with Bellatrix - for _months_, rather impressively - you just could not stop yourself. You took up with a married witch, with Aphra Travers. And her husband was more than a little cross about it when he found out."

"I'm so sorry, My Lord," Rodolphus said quietly. "I shall make things right. I shall -"

"You will be silent," seethed Voldemort, "and you will take what I give you now. Close your mouth, Rodolphus, and do not dare speak again. Listen to me!"

He was bellowing now, and he aimed his wand at the ferociously trembling Rodolphus as he shouted,

"You have gravely offended Prospero Travers by sleeping with his wife, Rodolphus. Worse than that - _far_ worse than that - you have continued to pour salt on Bellatrix's wounds and you show no sign of stopping on your own. So allow me to help you stop for good. You will never hurt her again, not the way you've been doing with such abandon. Do you understand me?"

"Y-Yes, M-Master," Rodolphus nodded, but Voldemort yelled,

"I told you to be silent! _CRUCIO!_"

Suddenly Rodolphus started to convulse, slumping down in his chair and going limp as he shook. It was as though he were having a terrible seizure, the scarlet light of Voldemort's curse wrapped around him like a web. The convulsions continued as Rodolphus started to scream, and his hands fisted at his hair, yanking out strands. His feet kicked at the ground as he fell to the floor, and his voice rang out in terrified pain. Voldemort knew he couldn't hold this too long, or else he would defeat his own purposes. He let Rodolphus keep shaking and writhing and screaming for another two minutes or so, and then he snapped his wand up and broke the Cruciatus Curse, feeling flush with power.

Once the Cruciatus had been broken, Rodolphus lay still and quiet on the ground, coughing a bit every now and then. Voldemort let him lie there in agony for a few moments, and then he mumbled,

"Get up, you miserable worm."

Rodolphus staggered to his feet, hauling himself up on the armchair and panting loudly as he heaved to stand. He turned to face Voldemort, his hair a mess, his cheeks beet red, and the rest of his skin white as a sheet. He bowed low and held it, and when he stood, he murmured,

"I am more sorry than I could ever say. My Lord. My Master."

"Cross me again, and it will be the very last thing you ever do. I swear that to you, Rodolphus," Voldemort sneered. "Make me angry like this one more time, and I vow that I will kill you."

Rodolphus shut his eyes and nodded, whispering weakly,

"I shall do better, sir. So much better."

"See that you do," Voldemort snapped. "Get out of my sight."

* * *

Voldemort stood outside the crimson door of Bellatrix's townhouse and cleared his throat a little. They'd agreed that he would come here to pick her up for the Christmas party, that the two of them would go together in a supremely aggressive move by Voldemort. But now, standing outside the house, Voldemort felt anxious for some reason. Did he look foolish in his formal black brocade robes? Did his hair look all right? He'd had it cut this morning. He finally knocked and huffed a breath, reckoning that either she would like the way he looked or she wouldn't, but that there was nothing to be done about it now.

The door creaked open, and Punky the House-Elf ushered Voldemort inside. He hadn't worn a winter cloak; only he could bypass all the security measures at Malfoy Manor, and he meant to take Bellatrix by Side-Along straight into the house. So Voldemort shivered just a little as he walked into the foyer of the house and looked around.

Then he saw her.

She came walking out of the parlour, smiling warmly at him, and his lips fell open in alarmed silence. She was cripplingly beautiful. She wore a gown of black satin, with long sleeves and a neckline that fell in a very deep V, revealing the gentle swell of her breasts. Her wild curls had been tamed into a slick, smooth chignon at the base of her neck, coming over one shoulder. She'd jabbed a sparkling silver hair comb into her style, and she wore silver and crystal earrings. Her lips had been painted with shiny scarlet lipstick, and her eyelashes looked impossibly long. She was beautiful beyond words, Voldemort thought, and yet he tried very hard to come up with something to say to her.

"You look… you look…" He stepped toward her, and her little smile grew. She reached to touch at his chest, and he finally whispered, "You look like a dream."

"Master." Bellatrix hummed the word, and it sounded like sugar coming from her. He licked his lip and slid his fingers through hers, noticing that she'd painted her fingernails shiny red to match her lips. He squeezed her hand a bit and asked,

"Are you ready? To go in there on my arm?"

"No," she confessed. "I'm terrified."

"Don't be." He used his free hand to pet her satin-covered arm, and he reminded her, "You are mine, and everyone must know it."

"Yes, Master," Bellatrix said obediently. He smirked at her then, and he Disapparated without another word. When they came to, they were in the corridor outside his office at Malfoy Manor, and he could hear the strains of string instruments mixing with laughter and the low drone of conversation. Voldemort held fast to Bellatrix's hand, which he'd taken in her foyer. He held onto her as they walked toward the Malfoy ballroom, and as they neared the party, he pulled her hand up and wound it through his arm. She seemed genuinely surprised by the way he wanted her to literally go in on his arm, but he stayed unfazed. He walked with confident steps into the ballroom, Bellatrix beside him. Her heart was racing, he knew. She was fearful. But he stroked her hand with his fingers and murmured,

"It'll be fine."

Suddenly they were entering the party, and the ballroom had gone utterly silent. Even the enchanted strings stopped playing, and Abraxas Malfoy called out,

"All give due reverence to the Dark Lord himself!"

Every single person in the ballroom bowed or curtsied, and Voldemort just said,

"Happy Christmas. Continue the celebration."

The strings started back up, and people hesitantly returned to their conversations. But everyone seemed mystified and intrigued by the way Voldemort had come into the party with Bellatrix Lestrange - a married witch, known to be one of his most fierce young Death Eaters - on his arm. Voldemort released Bellatrix just enough to hold her hand, and he felt her shaking a little. He turned to her and said,

"Let's go talk to Prospero Travers, shall we?"  
"Erm…" Bellatrix looked alarmed. "As you command, Master."

"Prospero!" called Voldemort, pulling Bellatrix to where Prospero Travers stood in conversation with Nott and Avery. Travers' wife was not with him. All three of the Death Eaters bowed as Voldemort walked up, and then their eyes all flicked to where Voldemort held Bellatrix. He said lightly to Travers,

"Prospero, that matter you and I were discussing… it has been handled to my satisfaction. I promise there won't be any more problems, and that justice has been served. Do you trust me in this matter?"

"I trust you in everything, My Lord," said Prospero Travers, and Voldemort sniffed.

"Good." He turned to Bellatrix and kissed her forehead, knowing he was surprising her. She clearly was doing her best not to look surprised, though her eyes still went wide. Voldemort said quietly to Bellatrix, "Suppose we ought to go say hello to Cygnus and Druella. Wouldn't do not to greet your parents, now, would it?"

"As you say, Master." Bellatrix sounded breathless, and the three Death Eaters before them looked shocked. Voldemort just nodded at the three wizards and led Bellatrix away, off to where Cygnus stood with Druella, Narcissa, and Lucius Malfoy. They all acknowledged Voldemort as he walked up, and they all seemed utterly scandalised by Bellatrix holding Voldemort's hand.

"Bellatrix," hissed Druella, "Why did your husband arrive alone, ten minutes before you, and why is he now moping alone with a tumbler of firewhisky whilst you…"

"Best not finish that thought, Druella," Voldemort warned. He brought Bellatrix's hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. "Have you some sort of problem with what you see?"

"No, Master," Druella huffed. "It's just… Bellatrix is a married witch, and she -"

"I'm aware of her marital status, Druella," Voldemort said, rolling his eyes. "When will you ever learn to butt out of things? You have _always_ stuck your nose where it didn't belong, even in school. It's quite obnoxious."

Cygnus snorted a little laugh, and Narcissa's mouth fell open in shock. Druella's face went cardinal with embarrassment, and she stammered,

"I just… I only… I want what's best for Bellatrix."

"I am what is best for Bellatrix," Voldemort said quite firmly. He flicked his gaze to the witch in question and asked, "Care to dance?"

"Oh, yes, Master. Please," Bellatrix nodded. He walked away from Druella and the others without another word, leading Bellatrix to the parquet dance floor. He guided her into a tight dancing stance, splaying his hand on her back. As they began to waltz, he told her,

"You're so pretty that it's a little painful."

"I'm sorry," Bellatrix said, but she smiled just a bit.

"No. Don't be." Voldemort chewed his lip. "It's the… the hair, and the makeup, and the jewels. The dress. The way your chest looks tonight. The shape of your waist, of your hips, your backside. Your arms in those satin sleeves. It's all of it. It's just… you are very beautiful."

"Oh, Master." Bellatrix blinked quickly, and for a moment he thought she might cry. But she quickly gathered herself, moving back into the waltz with ease. She told him, "You're rather a problem yourself, you know. Black brocade on you is… well, let's just say I'm rather looking forward to the after-party."

"Are you?" Voldemort smirked a little and bent down a bit. "Are you looking forward to me twisting my fingers into you, Bellatrix? Are you looking forward to me burying my cock so deep inside of you that you -"

"Master," Bellatrix gasped, and by then the song had ended and they'd stopped dancing. Voldemort pulled Bellatrix closer against him and whispered down to her,

"I mean to do unspeakable things in the pursuit of your pleasure, Madam Lestrange."

She moaned then. She actually moaned, right there on the dance floor, and he tipped her face up and kissed her. He kissed her so hard that their teeth clacked a little bit, but she didn't seem to mind. He pushed his tongue down between her lips and dragged it along the roof of her mouth, suckling on her bottom lip and stroking her back. People were watching, he knew. People were watching him snog Bellatrix on the dance floor, and all he knew was that he wanted to get this dress off of her.

Finally, they broke away, and when Voldemort looked up, his breath coming hard and fast through swollen, wet lips, he saw a figure standing and staring. Rodolphus Lestrange. The boy was drinking firewhisky, and he looked more than a little tipsy. But when Voldemort caught his eye, Rodolphus just bowed, obediently and reverently, and turned to walk away.

**Author's Note: So, it seems like Rodolphus has been taken care of, but something else needs to be taken care of next. All aboard the Lemon Express! Choo Choo!**


	13. Yours and Mine

"Bellatrix," Voldemort whispered in her ear once they were both a few drinks into the Christmas party. "Come upstairs with me."

"Upstairs, Master?" She turned her face and felt him kiss her lips delicately. She shut her eyes and let out a little noise, wanting more. He had a suite here, she knew. He had a suite upstairs. Did he want her in his personal quarters? Did he really want her in his rooms? Surely not.

"Bellatrix, let's go upstairs," he murmured again, and suddenly she realised they were both being completely oblivious to all the people around them watching. She finally looked away from Voldemort to see her sister Narcissa staring at them in wonder. Yaxley, Avery, and Nott were standing in a clump and looking awestruck.

"Upstairs," Bellatrix repeated, feeling numb, and she snared her fingers through Voldemort's as he led her out of the Malfoy ballroom. She was dizzy from drink as they went out into the corridor, but she smiled to herself as she was pulled toward the staircase in the corner. She entered the stairwell with Voldemort, and he surprised her as he pushed her up against the stone wall. He hovered over her and bent down, kissing her roughly. She sucked in air hard at the way he'd attacked her mouth here in the stairwell. She could hear the party clearly from here, though it was starting to disperse. They were all partying, she thought, and here she was being kissed by her master in the stairs.

"Let's go," Voldemort growled, and he yanked Bellatrix up the winding stairs. She almost tripped, rushing up the steps with him. At the top of the staircase, Voldemort pulled Bellatrix down the corridor until they reached a heavy wooden doorway. The paintings on the wall behind them started making little muttering sounds, gossiping among themselves as Bellatrix waited for Voldemort to throw open the door with wandless magic. He hauled her into the suite, and once she was inside, he slammed the door shut, and then he declared,

"I have needed you for hours."

"Y-You have, Master?" Bellatrix breathed, and in response, he stalked right up to her, wrapped his arms around her, and tore at the back of her dress. Bellatrix gasped as Voldemort's fists clenched between her shoulder blades and ripped hard. The satin gave way with a loud tearing sound, parting down Bellatrix's back. She kept gasping for air in alarm as Voldemort shoved the remnants of Bellatrix's dress off of her shoulders and wrenched it down over her hips, shoving roughly. Bellatrix hadn't yet had a chance to look around the rooms into which they'd come, and she very quickly realised they were in an elegant brown sitting room. But as she stepped out of the torn dress, Voldemort gave her no more time to take in the space. He shoved her back toward the wood paneled wall, and she staggered backward in her heels. She kicked them off and used her foot to shove them away, and then she felt Voldemort's hand squeeze roughly at her breast as her back hit the wall.

"You," he declared, "looked delicious at that party, and all I wanted to do was to devour you."

"Master," Bellatrix sighed, tipping her head back. Her curls ground against the wooden wall, and she felt his left hand go to her neck. He rubbed her there, and when he bent down and brushed his lips against hers, it was almost overwhelming. The feel of one of his hands squeezing and caressing her breast, the other hand massaging her neck, his lips touching hers… she moaned. It was all so much. _He_ was so very much.

"Master," she hummed onto his mouth, and he whispered against her,

"What do you taste like, I wonder?"

Bellatrix froze. What did he mean? He kept touching her, his thumb dragging over her peaked nipple as his other hand moved to her bare shoulder. He kissed her a little harder and then murmured,

"I'm going to taste you."

"Master?" Bellatrix's eyes fluttered open, and he backed away from her a little. He blinked slowly, looking far more drunk than she knew him to be. His throat bobbed, and he instructed her,

"Come with me."

He took her hand, and Bellatrix's heart accelerated in her chest as he led her away from the wall. She had nothing but knickers on now, and as he led her into an elegant black-and-brown bedroom, she felt very exposed. She did as he wordlessly bid her, climbing up onto the high curtained bed. She leaned back onto the voluminous stack of pillows and wondered whether she should take her knickers off. But Voldemort climbed onto the bed and knelt near her feet, and his own hands went to the waistband of the knickers. His thumbs hooked, and he pulled the knickers down over her hips. She wriggled a little, and Voldemort dragged them down and over her bare feet. He held them, balled in a fist, and stared at them for a long moment. Then he shut his eyes and set them aside, and he said in a low, serious voice,

"Spread your legs for me, Bellatrix."

"Yes, Master." Bellatrix felt hoarse all of a sudden. She parted her legs and felt so revealed that she could have melted right into the blankets. She couldn't believe the way Lord Voldemort - _Lord Voldemort _\- was staring right at the oyster of her womanhood, at the folds and little thatch of hair that marked her sex. She felt compelled to cover herself, but she resisted the sensation. Instead she took a shaking breath and watched his face as he gazed upon her. His fingers went to her entrance, the pads dragging along the length and up to her clit. Then he shocked her, because he bent down and arranged himself so that his face had delved between Bellatrix's thighs. She gasped, her fingers cinching on the coverlet, as she felt a long, slow drag on her entrance.

His tongue, she realised. That was his tongue. He raised his face up, his hands rubbing at her thighs, and he murmured,

"Mmm. You taste marvelous."

Bellatrix's cheeks went hot as flame then. She wrenched her eyes shut and drove her head back against the pillows. She felt him lick again, felt his fingers tighten on her thighs, and she let out a desperate little moan. Again his tongue licked, flat and long and slow. He suckled on her clit for a moment, rolling it between his lips, and Bellatrix squirmed. She felt one of his hands migrate to her backside, and his other hand went to her breast. He squeezed at her buttock and her chest, and he pulled a lip of Bellatrix's sex into his mouth. She writhed, overwhelmed by what he was doing to her. He pinched her nipple, so hard that it hurt a little, and his fingers clenched on her arse cheek. His tongue dragged up her entrance, and he sucked her clit again. Bellatrix moaned helplessly, her own hands flying to his short-cropped hair. She rubbed his scalp and pushed him more deeply against her sex, and when he burrowed his face into her, she cried out.

His hands were all over now. His right hand was holding her hip, pinning her to the bed as she wriggled around in delighted agony. His left hand stroked her ribcage, then her arm, and then held her hand, twining his fingers with hers. He wrenched their hands tightly together as he nudged his nose against Bellatrix's clit and pushed his tongue inside of her. Bellatrix heard and felt his groans against her, vibrating onto her as she felt everything begin to tighten. Her ears went hot and started to ring. Her eyes felt heavy, and her skin prickled and tingled. She arched her back up and finally snapped, losing control.

She practically screamed as she came, the walls of her womanhood snapping around Voldemort's mouth. He dragged his thumb over hers and rubbed at her hip as she rode her climax, and when at last the heat and noise inside Bellatrix's body began to fade, he slowly sat up. She was panting, thirsty, and amazed at the pleasure he'd shown her. She stared at him, blinking a few times, and she whispered,

"Merlin's beard, My Lord. I had no idea… I didn't…"

He smirked. "Poor creature. Now you know. As for me, I've made rather a mess of myself, I'm afraid."

He reached into his robes and pulled out his wand, and Bellatrix frowned in confusion. But then he aimed his wand down at the crotch of his robes and muttered quick _Tergeo _and _Scourgify_ spells. He cleaned up his face, too. Suddenly Bellatrix realised what had happened. He had come in his robes. He had actually been driven to orgasm by the act of using his mouth on her. For some reason, the idea of that was immensely gratifying; the thought that he had been so pleased in pleasing her…

"Is there nothing I can do to satisfy you further, Master?" Bellatrix asked, just to be on the safe side. He raised his eyebrows at her and curled up half his mouth. He dragged his thumb over his lip and murmured,

"You satisfied me just fine, Bella. I told you I'd be satisfied by you, didn't I? I meant it."

Bellatrix's eyes watered at that. She remembered the way he'd been so possessive at the party, the way he'd claimed her down there in front of everyone. She cleared her throat and sat up, saying in a tired voice,

"I have to mend my dress before I leave."

"Why are you leaving?" Voldemort demanded. Bellatrix looked at him like he was mad. He shrugged and climbed off the bed, and he went to a wardrobe and opened it. He pulled out a long, casual linen shirt and tossed it toward the bed. "Here. Sleep in this."

"Sleep in… you want me to stay here, Master?" Bellatrix asked incredulously, and Voldemort just stared at her. He licked his lip and nodded.

"Yes. I want you to stay here," he said. "Now let me get these damned dress robes off."

A half hour later, Bellatrix was underneath the blankets, wearing Voldemort's shirt, and he was in the bed beside her. He lay on his side and urged Bellatrix to lie facing away from him. He pulled her up against him, the two of them spooning like lovers. Were they lovers, Bellatrix wondered? She was in love with him, but he would never love her. They had sex. He was possessive of her. He was her master, and she was his servant. What did that make them?

"Bellatrix." Voldemort kissed at the skin beneath her ear, and he told her, "you looked very beautiful tonight."

"And I was yours, Master." Bellatrix stared at where his hand covered hers on the mattress. She watched him squeeze at her fingers, and she repeated, "I was yours."

"Of course you were," Voldemort said rather pompously. "And I let my Death Eaters see, and I let your parents see, and I let your husband see. Everyone could see that you are mine."

Bellatrix took a long breath and shut her eyes. Then she whispered, in a rather desperate voice,

"I am terribly in love with you."

"I know. Beautiful, ferocious, wonderful witch." He sounded almost giddy, and Bellatrix rotated slowly to face him. She frowned as his eyes met his, and she swallowed hard.

"I mean it, Master. I love you so much that it hurts. At first, I was only a little in love. Just a little fool for you. But it's become something different, I'm afraid."

His face went serious, and he nodded. He sank his teeth into his lip, and he whispered again, this time in a grave tone,

"I know. Beautiful, ferocious, wonderful witch."

Bellatrix curled up her lips and reached to stroke at his jaw. "And I am yours, My Lord. Entirely yours, aren't I?"

"You are," he nodded. "Goodnight, Bellatrix."

"Goodnight, Master," she hummed, and she tucked herself up against him, breathing in the scent of him until she fell asleep.

**Author's Note: Sorry for the delay in updating. Fair warning that this story is very nearly over. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing.**


	14. You Ought to Know

"Enter," said Voldemort in a stern voice. The door to his office opened, and Rodolphus Lestrange came walking inside. He shut the door and entered the office, bowing respectfully to his master.

"My Lord," Rodolphus murmured. Voldemort licked his lip and sighed. He himself had awakened in Bellatrix's bed this morning for the third time in a week. Twice in the last ten days, Bellatrix had spent the night in his chambers here at Malfoy Manor. Things between Voldemort and Bellatrix were, to put it mildly, getting extremely serious.

"Rodolphus," Voldemort said, "Come sit down."

Rodolphus pulled out the chair opposite Voldemort and sat in it, and Voldemort pursed his lips. He drummed his fingers on his desk and asked,

"Would you care for some firewhisky?"

"Erm…" Rodolphus seemed altogether quite surprised by the offer. He raised his dark eyebrows and nodded. "Yes, Master. Thank you."

Voldemort stood and walked over to his drinks cart. He pulled out two crystal tumblers and opened his bottle of firewhisky, pouring a few fingers of the amber liquid into each glass. He put the stopper in the bottle again and carried the glasses back to his desk. He sat down, pushed a tumbler to Rodolphus, and cleared his throat.

"I should like to propose a toast," he said lightly, "to Bellatrix."

"To Bellatrix?" Rodolphus was surprised again, but he picked up his glass of firewhisky and nodded. Voldemort elaborated,

"She is the witch you married, the witch who serves me, and the witch who binds you and I together, Rodolphus. And I am… I am terribly fond of her. I do not have any intention of slowing down with her. So here is to Bellatrix, in all her terrible beauty."

"To Bellatrix, Master." Rodolphus sipped his firewhisky, and when he and Voldemort set their glasses down, Voldemort said quietly,

"I think your loyal service has earned you several things. First, your freedom, and second, a better living situation. I mean to see to it that you are granted both of these conditions."

Rodolphus' lips parted, and he brought his tumbler up for another sip of firewhisky before asserting,

"I shall serve you without question, Master. Always. I hope you know that my -"

"I am assured of your loyalty," Voldemort nodded. He dragged a finger around the rim of his crystal tumbler and said, "I have spoken with Bellatrix. Whilst you and she can not divorce, she has agreed to a situation in which she is publicly mine and you are free to pursue a relationship with whomever you choose."

Rodolphus' eyes went wet, and Voldemort knew why. Holly Thorpe was dead now, and Rodolphus had loved Holly Thorpe.

"You'll find someone," Voldemort promised him, and Rodolphus just nodded silently. Voldemort continued, "The other bit of all this is that I do not think you deserve to be living in a rented bedroom with a shared bathroom just because you and Bellatrix are separated. I have purchased a house for you. I know you prefer the countryside to London. It's a place in the Cotswolds. I think you will be happy there."

"My Lord. How very generous," Rodolphus breathed. "I do not deserve -"

"It is up to me to determine what you do and do not deserve," Voldemort snapped, and Rodolphus shut up. His pale blue eyes were still watering, and Voldemort lowered his own gaze as he mumbled, "I have fallen in love with your wife; I think the least I can do is grant you your freedom and a house."

There was a heavy, almost static silence in the room then, and finally Rodolphus asked,

"Does she know, My Lord?"

Voldemort looked up, meeting Rodolphus' blue eyes again, and he shrugged. "Does she know what?"

Rodolphus blinked. "Does Bellatrix know, sir, that you are in love with her?"

"Oh." Voldemort chomped his lip. "No. I could never say such a thing to her."

Rodolphus' brows knit together, and he just stared at his master. Voldemort grew so uncomfortable under the weight of Rodolphus' gaze that he finally snapped,

"What would you have me do about it, boy?"

"Speaking plainly, Master, I would tell her," Rodolphus said calmly. "I think she ought to know."

Voldemort huffed a breath and reached into the pocket of his robes. He pulled out a brass skeleton key and handed it over to Rodolphus.

"Gravesbury Cottage, outside Moreton-in-Marsh. You're welcome."

"Thank you very kindly, My Lord," Rodolphus nodded.

"Dismissed," Voldemort said. He watched as Rodolphus stood, abandoning his firewhisky, and bowed. Once the boy had gone, Voldemort resolved to go to London, and he bypassed the security measures at Malfoy Manor by Disapparating straight from his office. When he came to outside the townhouse where Bellatrix lived, it was pouring rain. He walked briskly through the rain up to the front door, but he was getting soaked as he knocked on the scarlet door. After a long moment of no answer, he scowled and banged harder. Finally the door flung open, and he heard Bellatrix yelling,

"Punky, there was someone at the door, you useless… oh, Master! Do come in out of the rain. I'm so sorry."

Voldemort followed her into the foyer, and as she shut the door, she said in a low, frantic voice,

"Damned House-Elf is so busy cooking lunch that it can't even -"

"Bellatrix," Voldemort interrupted, and she raised her eyes to him. She blinked at how serious he was, and she whispered,

"Is everything all right?"

"I…" His lips had gone dry, despite the rain, and he found himself standing still with a racing heart. He gulped past the knot in his throat and finally said in a firm voice, "I love you. You ought to know."

Bellatrix's tears welled at once, and her fingers flew to her lips. But she just nodded and said weakly,

"Please, Master. Come in and dry off. Lunch is almost ready."

**THE END**

**Author's Note: Well, that was a fun little ride. I have begun work on an AU fic called **_**In Pursuit**_**, if you'd care to follow me there. Thanks for reading.**


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